An Oldfashioned Husband
by edwardian1901
Summary: Edward, reluctant to pursue Bella's new sexual fetish, is in over his head trying to keep her out of trouble. Journey to soft-core BDSM, spanking, lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: _Twilight_ belongs to its creator (not me). No copyright infringement intended.**

**This story will contain corporal punishment, erotic spanking, and lemons. If you are an adult and can handle that, I hope you enjoy.**

**My beta reader, sisterglitch, to whom I have confessed all, encouraged and inspired me to write (and rewrite) this story.  
><strong>**The plot is a few leagues out of her kingdom, but she's being very gracious to indulge and include me in her realm.  
>Thank you, Your Royal Highness of Angst. I humbly bow to your expertise.<strong>

I returned alone in the late afternoon to the cottage I share with my wife and daughter.

Carlisle and I had taken a short day trip—just the two of us—to the Three Sisters Wilderness in Oregon. It was sunny and cool and absolutely beautiful. We ran and hunted and even played in the snow. Recalling the old man ridiculously stuffing ice in my hood (like I wouldn't know…) made me think I would have to take Bella and Nessie there soon.

As good as it was to spend much-needed bonding time with my father, I missed my girls. So after greeting my mother and leaving Carlisle at the big house, I sprinted to my little home in the woods.

I knew before arriving that the cottage was empty. No lights or voices or Nessie's rapid heartbeat. It was a big letdown. I glanced around for a message or sign as to where my family might be but nothing surfaced. When I checked the closet, I remembered Bella walking around in there last night wearing just a tiny pair of white panties and a tissue-thin yellow tee shirt. Sublime! She wiggled her hips seductively and then we enjoyed a lengthy romp on the floor.

However fantastic the memories, without my companions I did not want to stay there. Disappointed, I took off back toward my parents' house to see what Esme knew about Bella's whereabouts. With a quick detour to the garage, I noted that my wife's Ferrari was gone.

I hesitantly surveyed the amorous thoughts radiating from inside the house. Once I was certain I wasn't interrupting anything too personal, I sped upstairs to the master suite where Esme was helping Carlisle unpack. I knocked on the doorframe before I entered. Both my parents looked up at me and smiled graciously.

"Bella and Nessie not home?" Carlisle asked, guessing the reason for my reappearance.

"No. Sorry to interrupt, but I thought Esme might know something."

My mother's brows came together as she shook her head. "No, Edward. I assumed Bella was at the cottage. Neither she nor Nessie left with the others. She probably wrote you a note, though, to let you know where she would be. We expected you back about this time…"

"No, there was no note," I reported, confused. "I'm sure she's close by. Don't mind me. I'm going to see if I can reach her phone."

"_I had a nice time today,"_ Carlisle thought my way.

"It was a great day, Carlisle. Let's do it again soon."

I took out my mobile as I walked slowly back downstairs. When I dialed Bella's number, the call was forwarded straight to her voicemail. She was either out of range or the power was turned off. Hmmm… I thought I might know where she was hiding—but surely not, I told myself.

Before I could leave a message for my wife, the phone at my ear indicated I was getting another call. I ended the other to answer to my psychic sister.

"What."

"Edward. Bella's not home," she said flatly.

"Yes, I know that, Alice. Where is she?"

"She and Nessie are fine. They won't be too late."

She hadn't answered my question. "Alice, do you know where they are?" I repeated. Of _course_ Alice knew where they are. Unless, there was a wolf in the way…

"Um…yes," she said slowly. "But Bella told me not to say. I'm only calling because I see you were starting to worry."

Well, that settled it. I was certain I knew where she was now.

Bella and I had been revisiting the same argument lately. My wife loved the sun, and although we didn't see much of it here, the beach—cloudy or not—reminded her of growing up in the desert.

I had caught her a couple weeks ago at First Beach in La Push. When Alice told on her, as she will always inevitably do, I drove to fetch Bella, who I found walking along the road wearing a large, wide-brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses. She was absolutely stunning—in an uncooperative, headstrong sort of way.

For quite some time she walked beside my car defiantly as I urged her through the open window to get in with me. Once I had her in my passenger seat, I lectured most of the way home about how foolish she was being. Even disguised, if another beachgoer had recognized her, it could have been disastrous. Not to mention if the clouds had parted, even for a second! The shoreline offered no shade.

Of course, she protested, saying she was being especially careful.

Still, I argued, if she wanted to go to the beach, we could plan another trip to Esme's island, where she could sunbathe safely.

"I would like that, Edward. But I am also fond of First Beach. Charlie used to take me there when I was a child, and I would like to take Nessie."

When we disagreed about something, it was always more productive if I didn't directly refuse. I had learned the hard way that enforcing restrictions on Bella only compelled her to extremes. So she was feeling nostalgic… I could understand that. However, beaches were pretty much off-limits to vampires—well, during the day anyway. There had to be a compromise in this somewhere.

"All right. We'll figure something out," I had promised her, with a kiss to the back of her hand.

I felt my temper start to heat knowing she probably was at the beach with Ness now. She waited precisely for the first moment I would be away and then she defied me. Well, I hadn't officially told her not to go to the beach…nevertheless, she was being deceitful.

A man of my day would have hided such a disobedient wife. Not Edward Cullen, though. I could only cringe when I imagined Bella's reaction if I tried.

I'll admit the thought had crossed my mind before. Riding motorbikes, diving off cliffs… The memory alone made me want to take her over my knee. Of course, all that was essentially my fault. I left her; I drove her to recklessness.

Later she would sneak away to go visit Jake after I told her it was dangerous. Even with all that had changed, the recollection still made my chest rumble. But I supposed that was my fault, too. I had tried to control her, forcing her to break my rules—rules, I admit, set up to assuage my jealousy.

Don't misunderstand. Jacob's like a son to me now. And it's a lot easier to like him these days without his constant scorn. It wasn't but a few months ago that I had entrusted him with my daughter during the Volturi's wrathful visit.

Now that specific memory further intensified my anger about Bella's beach trip. After all that happened then, how could she risk it? Taking Nessie with her, too?

I suspected Jake was with them, as he wanted to be wherever Renesmee was.

The images of Bella's earlier misadventures with Jacob flashed inside my head. I swear, if Nessie ever gets on the back of that bike with him… _Don't get distracted, Cullen._ I didn't really think that would happen anyway. Jake was extra vigilant with Ness and her safety.

But that's just it. Bella was so fragile back then. I was her protector. Her safety was my first priority. I wouldn't have hurt her, even to teach a lesson. I still wouldn't. Of course, she's not so breakable anymore…

There was also the rest of my family to consider. A coven such as ours, which kept close proximity with the human world, needed to be discreet, and we established boundaries for that purpose. These rules were enforced, and we could expect consequences if we pushed too far.

If another member of the family thought Bella was endangering our coven, they would intervene and she would be subject to their prosecution, which was mainly Carlisle's jurisdiction. Fortunately, I hadn't picked up on any distrust from my parents or siblings. Still, I needed to show my family that I was in control, and that Bella could be handled.

"Where are the little women, brother?" Emmett queried—he and Rosalie just coming in from their day out.

"Absent without leave," I replied grumpily.

"Nessie's not here?" Rosalie questioned, her disappointment evident.

I shook my head.

I sat at the piano and let my fingers play while my mind plotted.

"You didn't find Bella, dear?" Esme asked when she and Carlisle joined the rest of us downstairs.

"No," I frowned.

My mother clicked her tongue, but she was actually covering her concern. "Well, that's inconsiderate. I hope she has a good explanation."

"Me, too. Don't worry—Alice called to say they were safe."

Just then I could hear Nessie's and Jacob's thoughts. The little girl's mind was energetic and full of imaginary play. Jake was tired and hungry, and worried because Ness was jumping around in the backseat. He was telling her to sit still because "with the way your mother drives, you could fly up and hit the windshield with your head."

I laughed and divulged their arrival to the occupants of the house. "They're almost home…including Jake, and he's hungry." Jacob's constant worry was bordering on delusional; Bella drove ridiculously slow for a vampire.

"I'll go prepare something," Esme responded and exited for the kitchen.

I stopped playing and prepared myself for the inevitable confrontation and subsequent backlash. I was going to have to teach my smart-mouthed, twenty-first-century, independent wife a lesson.


	2. Chapter 2

Bella was scowling at her phone when she walked in the house followed by Nessie and Jacob. They didn't smell like the ocean, but it could have been masked by the distinctive scent of wolf—it was particularly strong this evening.

"Hello," Carlisle called out, as I was standing from the piano bench.

Bella looked at me with wide eyes. "Hi," she replied, feigning innocence.

"Hey, Carlisle, Edward, Emmett, Rosalie," Jacob greeted.

"Hi, Jake," I replied.

"Daddy!" Nessie squealed and ran into my arms, and I picked her up into a hug. I decided not to say anything about the beach. I would let Nessie tell on her mother.

My suspicions were confirmed when I handed the little girl to her grandfather. She played for him images in her mind of tidal pools and the cliffs of La Push.

"Where have you been?" I asked my daughter animatedly.

"We saw Billy and Sam and Emily and Seth and Paul and Jared and Embry and Quil." It was outrageously adorable how her eyes pointed up while she tried to remember all the names.

"Oh dear. You'll need to take a bath," Rosalie informed her.

"Don't forget Leah," Jacob added sarcastically. Esme returned with some sort of treat on a tray for him.

"Oh, and Leah," Nessie repeated.

"At the reservation, hmmm?" I asked. She nodded.

"Sorry we're late. I meant to get home before you did," Bella said. I walked over to my wife, leaning my head down to kiss her hello.

"I was worried when I didn't know where you were, but then Alice called," I revealed mysteriously when our lips disconnected.

"Oh?" No doubt Bella was wondering what all Alice had said.

"She didn't say where you were but that you would be home soon." I raised my eyebrows at her.

Then she knew she was caught. "Good old Alice. I'll have to thank her," Bella said, her last words hard, sounding more like a threat.

I chuckled.

"How was the water, Ness?" I asked. She was now showing her Uncle Emmett pictures from her day out. Emmett looked up at me with his mouth open. _"Busted!"_ he thought with delight. Carlisle was looking at us quizzically.

"It was cold, and Jacob chased me until I got my feet wet. Then he would catch me and throw me—" She cut off her sentence with her own hand over her mouth and looked at her mother. Bella must have rehearsed an acceptable story with her, and Nessie knew I had tricked her into revealing too much.

My father, realizing Nessie's mistake, hid a smile behind his hand.

"_Sorry, man,"_ Jacob thought my way. _"She wanted to go. You know I can't refuse her."_

Yes, I knew. It was the same for me.

"How was your day, Daddy?" said the little monster, expertly trying to smooth over her slip.

"Edward, it was fine," Bella said when I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to distract me from the fact that my daughter was covering for her. "I checked with Alice about the weather and the future."

I suppressed a disparaging comment. Bella knew Alice's predictions came with a disclaimer; her second sight wasn't always definitive.

"I was going to talk to you about it tonight anyway," Bella murmured.

"Uh-oh," Emmett blared. "Bella's in trouble!"

"I am not!"

He ignored her protest. "Nessie, do you think your dad's going to spank her?"

In unison, Bella gasped, Nessie giggled, Esme shouted and I groaned Emmett's name.

"None of your business, Em," Rosalie sang, exasperated.

"Rose is right, Emmett. That's a personal matter between Edward and Bella," Carlisle reprimanded.

Bella held her hands to her cheeks, like a replacement for the human blush that used to so often reside there. She looked at each of us, embarrassed and probably shocked that the rest of the family considered it a possibility. "That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Just because Edward didn't like it… I didn't do anything wrong!" she insisted, staring at the ground. "I can think for myself just fine. He's my husband—not my father."

Now _I_ was embarrassed, too, with six pairs of eyes watching for my reaction. Bella took it for granted that I wouldn't require her to mind me.

"Bella, I think we ought to continue this conversation in private," I suggested.

"See. I told you. She's definitely getting a spanking now," Emmett boasted.

Bella, never stealthy with her offense, roared and lunged at my obnoxious brother. I intercepted, grabbing her around the waist. She was snarling and clawing the air in the direction of Emmett, who stood laughing with arms akimbo.

Jacob urgently grabbed Nessie up off the floor since Rosalie had stepped away from her and toward Emmett.

"_Keep her away from my man, Edward,"_ Rose was telling me. _"He may be an idiot, but I won't let her attack him without any consequences...not anymore."_

This was quickly getting out of hand. I glared at Rosalie, incredulous. Emmett could take care of himself. If I let Bella at him, she would get hurt and I would end up fighting him.

"Shhh, Bella," I cooed, still restraining her. "You need to calm down. It's not worth hurting anybody."

"Aw, she won't hurt me," Emmett replied with good humor. He had been the target of Bella's frequent newborn attacks—which he had instigated, of course. He was relieved and eager for a fight since her intense strength had waned.

Carlisle wanted to give us our privacy, but not before the situation was diffused. _"Son, do you need help?"_ he asked. I shook my head in refusal, but gestured at Emmett.

"Emmett, do you want to try batting practice with me?" Carlisle suggested.

Em didn't even look his way. "Sounds like fun, Carlisle, but first I want to see how this turns out," he said, waving a hand in our direction.

"No, Emmett." Carlisle's voice turned hard. "Outside. Now."

"Fine," Emmett groaned. "But we'll miss the show, and you know it's going to be good. Take it like a man, Bella!" he encouraged loudly, while being steered out of the house by our father. The others half-heartedly dispersed, feigning disinterest.

I turned Bella around to face me, still clutching her firmly. "If I let you go, will you be good?" She nodded meekly, watching Emmett and Carlisle leave. "All right. My room." I could have carried her up—even if she continued to struggle—but I thought it more dignified if she removed herself. Despite their pretensions, the family was paying close attention.

She ran ahead of me up the two flights of stairs and, once in my old room, whirled around to confront me.

"Well, that got blown completely out of proportion," Bella breathed.

"I agree."

"What was that all about?"

I assumed she meant Emmett's obsessive teasing, but I wanted to discuss her bad choices, not corporal punishment and its application in the Cullen house.

"You spent the day at the beach," I prompted, sounding a bit short.

"You spent the day in Oregon," she countered petulantly.

"Honestly, Bella, you don't think it was wrong?"

"Not really. I feel sorry for not being truthful, but I only tried to hide it because you didn't want me to go. And I think that's just you being silly."

As aggravated as I was, I was grateful that I couldn't see what my face looked like from Bella's vision. I had a good idea of it anyway, and I wasn't quite sure it would straighten out of its long-term scowl.

She continued. "But you're not going to—you know—do _that_? Are you?" She meant the spanking, I guessed.

"No," I answered. My irritation made me brave enough to add, "Not this time."

"Good. I didn't realize that was an option, so I want to make this clear now." She lowered her chin and her voice, speaking loudly and distinctly. "You are not allowed to hit me, Edward Cullen!"

Of course I didn't want to hit her. I wouldn't.

"Then I want to make something else clear," I snarled. "_You_ are not allowed to go to the beach, Isabella Cullen. You are not allowed to lie to me so you can go to the beach! _And_ you most certainly are not allowed to teach our daughter to lie so you can take her to the beach!"

So it was back to setting rules for each other. It felt immature, albeit necessary.

"You are overreacting, Edward. I didn't lie exactly. Neither did Nessie, as a matter of fact. I asked her to keep quiet, and she slipped up. Perhaps _you_ can to teach her how to lie better since you're so good at it."

I chose to disregard her attempt to distract me. Lying was necessary at times, and, as one would expect, I was very good at it.

What I didn't understand was the hostility Bella displayed when I tried to correct her. It was reckless. End of story. _Admit your guilt, accept the consequences, and let it go,_ I silently pleaded with her. What, did I not dazzle her anymore?

When she didn't comply, I continued to lecture.

"Something is very wrong if you don't think what happened today was exhibiting bad behavior. Perhaps I _ought_ to give you a good spanking. Everyone downstairs is expecting it, you know."

Her eyes flared in fury, and I fought back an instinctive shudder. It looked as though her glare might catch my shirt on fire, since she seemed to be focused intensely on my right arm.

"I said, you are not allowed to hit me," Bella reiterated slowly.

The corner of my mouth twitched. "I don't consider spanking to be the same as hitting." Did I?

Strangely, Bella didn't say anything to try to save her hide. Nor did she say anything to provoke action. She waited for me to—I didn't know what—make a decision, call it off, follow through… What did Bella want? No: what did Bella need? I had been painfully learning to distinguish the difference over the last two years.

"_Do it,_ _Edward,"_ Rosalie coached from the garage.

No, I wouldn't. But I could make the rest of the household think I did, satisfy their sense of justice, and maybe make an impression on Bella. I felt that a demonstration was in order. I pulled out my desk chair and sat down.

I finally looked at Bella—who was softly growling at me by this time—smiled, and patted my knee.

"You wouldn't dare," Bella challenged in a low voice, arms crossed.

I started to dramatically roll up the sleeve on my dominant arm.

She didn't move from where she stood, and it didn't look like she had any intention of coming to me willingly. I calmly stood up, crossed to her instead, slung her upper half upside-down over my shoulder, and carried her back to the chair. We had captured the family's attention before, but the house grew unusually quiet with my movements. It wasn't every day that a man—or 100-year-old teenage vampire rather—positioned his wife for a spanking.

In one fluid twist, I grasped Bella's waist and flipped her facedown over my left knee, pinning her lower half with my free leg. I used my left hand on her back to restrain her. She held her arms rigidly straight against the legs of the chair, trying to arch her back and push up. She managed to bend the frame.

Ignoring her escape attempts, I let my palm fall to her behind with a muffled whap. Satisfied, I started spanking with more force, deliberately covering the seat of her jeans with my hand. It wouldn't hurt her, I knew. I used the opportunity to admire the view, and I couldn't help but imagine how much more fun this would be without the clothes.

"I can't believe this is happening," she hissed. "Why are you doing this?"

"You like me old-fashioned, you say? Well, I'm showing you how old-fashioned I can be."

Although it was obviously a play spanking, she was still fighting me. I discovered, however, that I liked her feisty side, and I was unconsciously reacting, becoming more dramatic and determined to hold her down. Oh, great. So I was becoming Emmett now?

Speak of the devil… _"If I were to try that on Rose, she would kick a hole in my head with her stilettos. God, I wish Jasper were here!"_ my brother was thinking from outside. Carlisle was trying to persuade him to run after the baseballs, but he was too focused on what was happening in my room.

I started to hit harder. Bella squeaked. I felt something slightly familiar coming to the forefront of my psyche. Something was waking up inside of me. It was shadowy and feral, and it liked control. It liked making Bella squirm and squeal.

"I told you," I started to rage, losing myself in the rhythmic beating, "no beaches! Yet off you go as soon as you think you can get away with it, and you take our daughter! I told you we would talk about it. Instead you sneak around while I'm away and try to deceive me." I added a line I had delivered on our second date to watch Cullen-style baseball, overlooking the awful conclusion of that date: "Bella, you'll be the death of me, I swear you will!"

Surprising myself, I discovered that I instinctively knew how to chastise a misbehaving female. The realization momentarily made me proud. The sensible part of myself, however, recognized and named the awful monster taking over. But I was helpless to stop him.

My wife was earnestly trying to get off my lap. "Stop wiggling, Bella," I threatened. "I know how to use a riding crop, and I'll use one on you." It was probably true; I vaguely remembered being familiar with horses in my human life. I didn't mention the fact that we didn't own a riding crop—as I was sure she was already aware of the fact—or that a riding crop was no weapon against a vampire, regardless of who wielded it.

But what was I doing? I asked myself. This was the twenty-first century. Husbands didn't punish their wives…that happened decades ago. Furthermore, Bella hated to be the center of attention. Here I was humiliating her for the family to hear. She would murder me. But damn it, if it didn't feel good! And honestly, I didn't know how to stop myself.

I hadn't anticipated ever having to worry about this monster personality once my Bella wasn't human anymore. Yet here surfaced the same vampire that craved her blood—the darkest side of myself, which I had fought in order to keep her alive! Of course it wasn't her blood he was after now. He laughed and rubbed his palms together and tightened his grip, intent to keep this woman facedown, over his lap, defenseless, and humiliated.

I _was_ eternally damned—cursed by this demon who all too often ruled me.

"Edward! Edward, stop!" Bella's struggle grew more desperate. Was she hurt? _Oh, no! Did I hurt her?_ She didn't sound like she was in pain. I stopped smacking and sort of shook myself out of the monster's possession.

Tallying up from the last two minutes, I had smacked Bella 37 times. I had taken my demonstration much further than I had planned. I had let my vampire instincts weaken my self-control…and I raised my hand to my wife. _You don't hit women, Cullen!_ my reason scolded. _Even just for play. Women are delicate._ Well, perhaps not Rosalie, but Bella certainly was.

I felt like such a jerk. A monster. Why couldn't I just be good?

A survey of minds in the rest of the house found that nobody thought I had lost control, taken the punishment too far, or abused Bella in any way. Jacob and Emmett were jovial; Carlisle and Esme masked their amusement; and Rosalie was mad that I hadn't found a riding crop. Apparently she knew that Alice kept one in her bedroom. And Nessie…where was Renesmee? Ah, Nessie was confused. Hm. She heard. I would need to explain.

I mechanically released my hold on Bella, and she leapt up on the bed. I braced myself and turned to face my destruction, wondering how to redeem this. But as I was reminding myself that I deserved whatever wrath she would throw at me, I saw that she was staring at the bedroom door with wide eyes.

That was when I noticed the heartbeat. Well, I had heard it the whole time it was outside the door, but it hadn't registered with my brain until now that it was a spy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, et al! I hope you like it, and I appreciate hearing your reactions.**

**This chapter is ... weird. Strange family, those Cullens.**

Striding to the doorway, I opened it swiftly to reveal our little daughter, positioned so that her ear had been pressed to the outside. She recovered from her surprise at the barrier being removed and looked up at my raised eyebrows.

"Renesmee," I chided. "Eavesdropping isn't polite." I realized my scolding was hypocritical.

"Daddy, what did you do?"

"Um...we were just wrestling." I sheepishly turned to glance at Bella, who was smirking at me.

She lifted her shield. _"See, you lie a lot."_ I grimaced.

"Uncle Emmett said Momma was getting a spanking and that I should come up here and listen."

"Oh, he told you that?" I asked. Bella looked outraged. I noticed with relief that she didn't seem to be angry at me.

"Mm-hmm," Nessie nodded. "So… Can I spank Momma when she's naughty?"

Bella fell into the bed and was smothering her laughter with the covers.

"No, Nessie. You can't. Children don't spank their parents."

"But daddies can spank mommas?"

"Uh..." There was no way in hell I was going to address spanking in marriage (after all, despite what it sounded like, I hadn't _meant_ to spank Bella).

Emmett was laughing his head off in the backyard. He was really asking for it, and I was going to give it to him when this was all over.

"_You so deserve this, Edward,"_ Bella silently told me. She sounded amused—still not cross.

Nessie didn't wait for an answer as she was already making assumptions and organizing the logic in her head. "Who spanks you?" she asked.

"Well…" I wanted to halt this line of questioning. Bella was looking at me with curiosity; she wanted to know the system, too. I figured it was best to go with the truth—the basics anyway. I knelt down so we could be eye-to-eye.

"Your grandfather Carlisle is my father. Esme is my mother. They are my parents, and I'm their child, as are Emmett and Rosalie. Momma is my wife and you are our child." She nodded. She already knew that, she was telling me. "Right. So Momma and I can spank you, if you ever need a spanking"—that was doubtful—"Carlisle and Esme can spank me, Emmett, Rosalie, Momma, and you. Make sense?"

Nessie looked horrified. I realized I had just put her at the lowest end of a slapping hierarchy.

"But it hardly ever happens," I assured her quickly. "This is just logistics, you see." Then I looked at Bella to gage her reaction. If, as Bella's husband, I started spanking her—or I supposed that I already _had_ spanked her—that put her way down on the list, too. I expected she wouldn't like that much. This structure had been completely classified information until just twenty-one minutes before.

"What about Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper?" Ness questioned.

"Oh, well, I don't really know." Jasper was too self-disciplined (novel concept) to need external enforcement, and Alice could keep out of trouble on her own.

"But who can I spank?" So that's what was bothering her. Silly girl.

"You can spank Jake."

"Really?"

"Only when he needs it."

Behind me I heard Bella laugh softly and jump from the window. She hit the ground running—to our cottage, I supposed.

"Come on, Nessie. Let's go spank Uncle Emmett."

"But we can't. Only Granddaddy can."

"Oh, that's right." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Well… we'll have to see if we can get him in trouble. If you can't spank someone yourself, you can try to get them spanked, and I'm quite expert at that. I'll show you."

"I think Momma would like that."

"I think you're right."

The little girl took my hand and we descended to the first floor. My family stood in the big room, watching us come down to join the gathering. I wasn't sure how to act now that they all had heard what happened upstairs. Perhaps nonchalance was best, but not realistic. I decided the normal thing—the _Edward_ thing—would be to complain.

So I grumbled to no one in particular, releasing Nessie to Jake's arms. "There are _five_ of you—with super hearing and strength, I might add—some of you with superior mental faculties even"—I stared hard at Emmett—"and only one small child. I would think you could keep a collective eye on her. But perhaps you were too preoccupied."

"You can't blame me, Edward," Carlisle said with his hands held up. He looked young enough to be my brother since he took the time to change into a tee shirt. "I was already watching my own _big_ child." He nudged Emmett, who was tossing a baseball from hand to hand.

Jake also defended himself. "And Rose and I went out to the garage. We thought she was playing with Carlisle and Emmett. That's where I last saw her."

"Sorry, darling," Esme grimaced. "I think we all assumed she was with another family member."

Emmett was delighted to hear our mother's term of endearment for me_**. **__"Suck it up, little _darling_. I doubt you'll be getting any love from your wife tonight."_

I nodded and sighed.

"Spankin's are fun," Nessie breathed in her wolf's ear.

"Sure, sure," Jake replied, bemused.

Then my brother rebutted. "Yeah, right. Maybe when it's not your a—"

"Emmett!" Esme, Carlisle, and Rosalie interrupted him in time. Jake needlessly covered Nessie's ears.

I laughed, my mood lightening for a moment. The sudden uptake of good spirits made me want Bella.

I shyly excused myself. "Um…my moment with Bella was _interrupted_." I smiled and mussed Nessie's hair. "Will you all please watch Renesmee if I go to the little house?"

They nodded. "Won't let her out of my sight," Jake promised.

"I'll be back soon, love," I told Ness as she kissed my cheek. "Then we'll get to work on our secret plan, all right?"

"Okay!"

I followed Bella's scent to the cottage and entered warily, prepared for a tantrum, or at least a good talking-to.

Without warning, Bella jumped on me, wrapping her legs around my waist. But it wasn't to attack me—or at least not the way I had anticipated. She grabbed the hair on the back of my head and lustfully pushed her tongue into my mouth. When she finally let me go, I gasped for breath.

"The children will hear," I warned comically.

"Let them," she countered, panting. "You just spanked me in your parents' house. I'm not leaving here for a very long time, and you're staying with me."

I took a moment to study this gorgeous, roughed-up woman with narrowed eyes. She looked a bit angry, but mostly desirous. Then it dawned on me. She wasn't hurt at all.

"You liked it!" I accused with an incredulous grin. She snorted and lightly slapped my face.

"No," she argued.

"You know, spanking in the bedroom can be pleasurable. I'm a mind reader—I know about these things."

"I did not like it!" She paused and bit her lip. "But do you really know how to use a riding crop?" she whispered shyly.

"I'm sure I could figure it out. And I now know there's one in Alice and Jasper's room."

Bella's mouth opened in astonishment and humor. "No! Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Mm-hmm."

"Edward?" she said, blinking seductively.

I responded reluctantly as she leaned in. "Yes?"

"If you ever spank Renesmee, I will tear you limb from limb," she snarled in my ear.

"What? No, I was just—" I started to explain, but she knocked me onto the couch and ripped into my shirt.

Before I could get completely carried away with carnality, I stopped her. "Wait, Bella." I needed to sort all this out. "What just happened?" I had spanked my wife and she was responding sexually. Did she like it? I couldn't really tell since she was still securely under her shield. This was an exciting discovery, but…very wrong. "Can you talk to me? Tell me what you're thinking."

"Where did you learn how to do that?" she asked shyly.

I scoffed. "I've been spanked before, Bella. It's not hard to figure out."

"Oh. You remember that? From being human?"

"Yes, that, and—"

"After?" she gasped. "So what you told Nessie…?"

I nodded. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Not really."

"Bella… Did you do it on purpose? I mean…did you go to the beach because I didn't want you to?"

"No," she said automatically. "I don't think so. Maybe. I don't know." She grabbed a pillow from the couch and covered her face with it.

This was troubling to me. Bella was usually so self-aware. It felt rather ridiculous, but I spoke softly to the pillow. "I'm sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"

Instead of answering, she threw it bluntly at my head.

"Easy, girl," I laughed, but my joke apparently angered her further. She kicked up, her foot making contact with my jaw. "Ow!" I held my chin in my hand and tested the joint. "Bella, that was uncalled for."

She was up off the couch in a flash. I followed suit and backed away. She started grabbing things from the shelves to use as ammunition—against me. Ducking and weaving through the barrage of books and antiques, I stepped to her and held her arms down at her sides. "Please. Bella, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

When Bella appeared to be calming down. I relaxed my grip slightly. She managed to free one arm, which she used to slap my face—hard this time.

"Stop hitting me," I said firmly.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, cocking her head.

I thought for a moment, choosing to become very still. Perhaps if I didn't move or talk, she wouldn't be angry and would stop trying to hurt me. So I shut down. I resolved to take whatever violence came next without so much as a flinch. I even avoided looking directly into her line of sight, as though she were a dangerous animal. Unfortunately, my plan frustrated her more. Bella screamed in the back of her throat before flashing her teeth at me.

This was bizarre! Bella was such a good little newborn; and regardless, she should have been beyond the unpredictable stage of her transformation. Perhaps this was a delayed reaction? I moved to the door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"To get Carlisle."

She stilled. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I don't know what's wrong with you. I want to help you, but I just don't know how."

Bella rolled her eyes. "You know, for a mind reader, you can be really dense," she complained. And then she lifted her shield, giving me a short peek inside her mind. Initially I was grateful to be given a clue, but then…

"No. No, no, no, no, no," I muttered. Oh, my sweet Bella. What had I done? I had created a monster. I had assumed she was turned on by my play spanking. _Oh, you've been a naughty girl, haven't you?_ A couple of light smacks and then between the sheets we go. That wasn't it at all. She wanted to be punished, dominated. She wanted me to do…_that_ to her. My imagination roamed the idea further with visions of rope and whips and blindfolds.

"I am not doing that," I said with finality.

"Come on! You just said Alice and Jasper—"

"You don't want to know what Alice and Jasper are into. Nor Rosalie and Emmett for that matter."

"But why did you do what you did?"

"It was for fun…and for my family's benefit. I was upset," I admitted.

"Well, it was a big turn on," she whispered.

"Bella, I have mistakenly tried to control you in the past, and it always backfires on me. I won't do that again. Besides, you are always right."

"So stop arguing with me and do it. This is embarrassing talking about it."

I shook my head. "Not now. Just wait. I need to think."

"Didn't you like it at all, Edward? It seemed like you did."

"I liked it too much, Bella." By the look on her face, you would have thought I had just said I was buying her a Barnes and Noble. "For God's sake! Don't be happy about that." I ran my fingers through my hair. "Look at us. Here we are again. You are a vampire, and yet I still have to struggle not to hurt you. And you are still controlled by raging hormones! What's even worse is your hormones want me to hurt you."

I paced. Bella knelt back on the couch, watching me while biting her lip.

"All right. This is the short-term plan. I'm going to go back to the big house and arrange care for Renesmee. I doubt Jake is ready to give her up yet, and your father is overdue his time, too, so I'm going to drive them to Charlie's. When I come home, we're going to discuss this—"

"I don't want to talk, Edward," Bella whined. "I know what I want." She was rubbing her thighs together. The scent of her arousal slammed my senses. And I had thought her blood was the most intoxicating fragrance in existence. I almost threw her down right then.

Trying to ignore that impulse, I fixed her with a stern glare. Bella reflexively looked down. This was what she wanted, and it was so hard not to give in. She probably needed a good blistering, and, if I were being honest, I would have enjoyed giving it to her. But I couldn't afford to lose control again. Fortunately nothing tragic had happened that afternoon, but I couldn't take chances. I needed to prepare.

"Call your father," I directed, tossing her my phone.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen," she responded, subdued. I was too ashamed to admit that the monster part of me fancied her compliance…as did an eager part of my anatomy. He, too, it seemed, had a mind of his own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Thanks again for reading! Hang with me; we'll get these two to a healthier understanding eventually.**

**As for what happens in this chapter... Well, vampire sex is really _fast_. I know this from personal experience. That's all I want to say about that. Um...yeah.**

When I approached the Volvo ahead of my two passengers, I was surprised to find Bella in the front seat. Jake and Nessie slid into the back.

"Oh, Bella," I greeted pleasantly, slipping behind the wheel. "I thought you had things to do at the cottage."

Jacob laughed. "Right, like pout because Edward's such a meanie. We heard you fighting him upstairs." He caught my eye in the rearview mirror. "That was brilliant, man. Why didn't one of us think of that before?" He was recalling several past incidents, which presented appropriate opportunities.

"Shut up, Jake," Bella said. Then she turned to me. "I need your help with the one thing, you know, so I thought I might as well come along for the drive."

Jake waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me. It used to be that a passing thought like that would have caught Jake up in a spiral of explicit visions. That was before Nessie. He just didn't think like that anymore. I wondered how long it would be before he reverted back, and it would be my daughter he was fantasizing about.

Bella tried to change the subject. "Jacob, make sure you help Charlie feed Renesmee. You know what she likes."

"Yeah, I can't wait to tell Charlie that you got spanked," he mused instead of replying to Bella's request.

"Uh, Jake," I shook my head. "Charlie might not approve of my…method."

"Or he might be impressed," Jake argued.

"You wouldn't like it so much if it had been Ness," I told him.

"Oh, it would be fine. I could use some prior warning if that happens, though."

"Nessie," I instructed, "let's keep what happened this afternoon private, all right? We wouldn't want to upset Grandpa."

"Sure, sure," Nessie chirped. We all grinned at her adoption of Jake's special phrase.

We walked the kids up to the house, where an enthusiastic Charlie held open the door. "There's my girl," he crooned and opened his arms. He was much better at being affectionate with Nessie than he was with his own daughter. "Ready to spend some time with your old Grandpa Charlie? It's baseball season, Ness, and I bought you a Mariners cap."

"Dad, that's unnecessary," Bella accused.

He shrugged. "Just because you didn't take to it, Bells… I can still hold out hope for her."

"Renesmee likes baseball," I assured him. "Be good, Ness."

"Am I allowed to spank her if she's not?" Charlie asked with a grin.

"What?" Bella gulped.

"He's teasing," I told her, so Charlie couldn't hear. "Yes, in fact, she requires it," I replied in a human frequency. "At least once before bedtime and again first thing in the morning."

Nessie giggled and ran inside, bronze curls bouncing and Jake on her heels.

I smirked at Bella. "So much for farewells."

"She'll be great. You two…have a good night," Charlie told us, trying not to think about what that would entail. If he only knew…

"Why didn't you stay at our house?" I questioned Bella during the return walk to the car. It was dark by then and lightly raining. "I had taken it for granted that you would have wanted to avoid Jake after the afternoon performance."

"I didn't want you to change your mind while I wasn't with you."

I held the car door open for her. "I haven't made up my mind yet," I pointed out. She huffed and slid into the seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "There's a lot to talk about. I don't know exactly what you want." And I wasn't quite sure how to give her what she wanted and remain a gentleman.

"You are sucking the fun out of this," she accused.

"Humans who experiment with this sort of thing usually draw up a contract. Don't you think we ought to at least talk this through?"

"You can't really hurt me anymore."

"Yes, I can. Trust me."

"But that's okay. I want it to hurt. Like you said, I like you old-fashioned."

"Well, I won't be cruel," I snapped. I was afraid for a moment that I had hurt her feelings, but after a twenty-six-second silence, she continued.

"Edward? What would happen if I started causing trouble, and you didn't handle it?"

I cringed. "The family would interfere."

"And that would mean…what?"

"Probably that Carlisle would…discipline you." I turned to look at her; she had stopped breathing. I supposed she had interpreted how he would punish when I alluded to it earlier.

"Even though you changed me?" Her brows were knit together. "Edward, you are my creator," she whispered.

The statement took my breath away, too. I was her creator, although I hadn't thought of it that way before. Bella was my reason for living. From the day she became my would-be murder victim, that little brown-eyed girl had become my ruler. She created for me a life worth living. Still, just as Carlisle was my creator, I was hers. I was completely responsible for her. For her needs, her care… her new fetish.

"I would never let it happen. And Jasper still keeps a close watch on you. But to answer your question… He wouldn't appreciate having to do it," I explained, "but if I didn't restrain you or give you consequences when you messed up, Carlisle would take over. I suppose he would try to reason with you, but if that didn't work, he would make certain you didn't sit comfortably for a long while. Hard to imagine, but believe me. My father can give one hell of a thrashing."

"Good to know," she said finally with a satisfied smile, as though I just finished describing a dream come true. Was she planning to make that a possibility?

"You don't want that," I warned.

"Well, if you won't give me what I do want…"

I growled loudly. It was rude, but I couldn't stand it.

Before I knew what was happening, I heard an aggravated sigh and a splash when water temporarily obscured my vision. One second I was watching the road, the next I was shaking water from my hair. Bella had soaked my face and head with the contents of Jake's forgotten sports bottle.

I braked suddenly, skidding and sliding off the highway and onto a conveniently found fire road until the car was concealed by the fringe cover of trees. The phone in my pocket was vibrating. Alice. Well, I didn't need a psychic to tell me what was going to happen next. I took it out and tossed it on the dash.

"All right," I snarled, "Isabella Swan. You want a spanking? You just earned your second of the day." I opened my car door then turned back to her. "And it will not be erotic!"

I got out, slammed the door, and then sped around the hood to fetch my wife from the other side. She looked frightened—or perhaps excited—but she didn't fight me. I had grasped her upper arm in one hand; with the other I threw open the back door, getting in and dragging Bella with me.

I immediately pushed her down over my lap. Her upper body was hanging off the seat, her arms clutching my left thigh and calf. For crying out loud, she didn't even know how to position herself for a spanking!

Why couldn't my wife have grown up with two normal parents who set boundaries for her and punishments when she tested those boundaries? Isn't that why a father must punish—so that his daughter's husband wouldn't have to? This was all Charlie's fault for neglecting to take care of Bella's disobedience when she was his responsibility.

Speaking of fathers, I needed to channel mine. Carlisle never lost his temper, and he never punished angry. I remembered the few times he'd had to take Esme to his study for correction. She was my "sister" in those early days, but she was always his mate. I never minded hearing Emmett or Rosalie get it, but I couldn't stand it when he punished Esme. And having heard Carlisle's thoughts during those dreadful sessions, I knew he had it far worse than I, who only had to listen to it. His heart had been breaking with anguish.

I was not sad or regretful, though. I was angry.

Perhaps I should leave this to Carlisle. Wouldn't that be more responsible?

No, no. That was childish and cowardly. _Here's my misbehaving wife, Dad. I can't control her. Will you please blister her backside for me?_ Bella was mine, and I would attend to her. It would be my obligation to show her how terrible a spanking could be. Surely that would cure this unhealthy obsession.

I clutched her shoulders and pulled up so her head and chest would lie on the bench beside my leg. Recalling this afternoon's inopportune visit from my alternate personality, I silently informed my inner vampire that he would not be allowed to help during this punishment.

"Give me your hands," I ordered. Slowly, she released my leg and offered a hand. I took it and gently moved the arm over her head, to rest on the seat. Then she surrendered the other, which I set the same way. This bit of training calmed me. Judging by Bella's nervous energy—evidenced by her ragged breathing and slight squirming—it had served only to heighten her anxiety…or was it anticipation? I didn't know which.

My right hand dealt the first delicious smack. The sound of it, the sight of her shapely bottom, the weight of her on my thighs…it was arousing. Trying to keep my focus off my pants and onto the back of hers, I threw down more stinging smacks. Bella was mewing and clawing at the upholstery. The toes of her boots beat in perfect double-time on the car door.

The more I spanked, the more sensual gratification I craved. I needed to see her flesh, to feel its cool curves as my palm capably warmed it. _Oh, but wouldn't that make this a sexual experience?_ I argued with myself. No, a proper spanking ought to be delivered on a bare bottom. And that's what I was determined to carry out: a proper spanking.

I stopped beating to tug down her tight jeans. She wasn't wearing panties I discovered delightedly.

"Naughty girl," I tutted.

"Nooo," Bella moaned deep in her throat as I revealed her lovely backside and thighs, smooth and ivory and even luminous in this cloudy evening. I lengthened the pause to slide my hand gently over the velvety slopes, which elicited a lusty whimper from my lap's occupant. I reminisced about my day spent bolting over the snowy hills in the Oregon wilderness; its natural beauty didn't hold a candle to a naked woman…this _half_-naked woman in particular. She was more lovely than a Botticelli painting.

Despite my best intentions to maintain a disciplinary spanking, the event had transcended mere pain and punishment. The car stayed parked, while Bella and I drove to a new level of sexual intensity. In an attempt to relieve the escalating desire, she was writhing on my lap, which was stirring me up. Stopping again, I dragged my hand through my hair, which was still wet, pulled up the hem of her shirt, and unfastened her bra. Undone by the sight of Bella's narrow waist, I trailed a hand around to her front and caressed her breast.

I spanked for a while more and then sent my hand down between her legs to feel inside my mate. I told myself I was checking to be satisfied I was doing my job—and _not_ turning her on. Of course, if I really thought penetrating and fondling would cool her down, I was a top-grade fool. I could tell myself I was a frightening brute and that this slapping performance would show her who's boss, but the truth was becoming quite evident, this punishment was nothing if not foreplay.

My fingers explored the delicate sheath inside of Bella. I let slip a mild oath when I found it enhanced by a glassy liquid silk.I wanted in. I wanted to immerse myself in that soft, slippery inner world.

But I needed to finish the damn paddling first. I pulled my hand out and administered a dozen more sharp smacks. That was all the retribution I could summon. I skimmed my nose along the crease between her buttock and leg then followed with my tongue. I followed suit on the opposite side.

Suddenly I lifted her up and freed myself from my trouser fly. Then I set her back on my lap, seated this time, and fitted together. She squealed when her spanked bottom made contact with my body. I wrapped one arm up under her shirt and found a breast again. The other arm curved down around her hips. My fingers, still wet from the plunge, pushed and played between her thighs.

Suddenly Bella's head was thrown back, and her long hair brushed my face, which was pressed between her shoulder blades. Then the muscles clenched around me, and I felt her feet come up on her toes. I held Bella tight while she shuddered and screamed, her silky core throbbing and gripping my erection. My head felt like it was filled with champagne bubbles, fizzing and taking over my senses.

When she was safely landed, I grasped her waist and lifted her up and down on my lap three times, taking pleasure when she yelped from the forceful contact. With the third thrust, my hips came up off the seat—my head finally finding clarity at this elevation—and I was done. The climax, however, left me soaring until I wasn't sure I would ever come down from that height.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Thank you all again for reading, reviewing, favoriting... Let me know what you think. -E.**

"It burns," she breathed, fascination lighting her face as she shifted carefully into the front seat. She tried to look contrite, but she was definitely pleased with herself.

When we had finally disconnected in the backseat, I helped Bella set her clothes back to rights. Then she had knelt on my lap and kissed me sweetly. That led to me kissing her in return, and it was forty minutes later that we were now preparing to drive home. It was backwards. Usually the "making out" came before we consummated.

"Good. You did that on purpose," I accused half-heartedly, watching Bella slide her hands beneath her.

She tilted her head, not denying that she threw water in my face while I was driving to forcibly persuade me to take action. "Am I in trouble?" she asked.

"Not anymore."

"That was my punishment?"

I nodded wearily.

"Well, Mr. Cullen, I'll try not to get on your bad side in the future." _Mm-hmm._ I could virtually watch her mind inventing the next scheme. I would need to nip this and soon. "So… you want to give me away?" she asked.

"I'd like to keep you if I can. Why would you say that?" I tried to swallow a surge of unfounded panic. "Do—do you want to leave me?"

"No, Edward! I'm never leaving you. You know that. But you called me Isabella _Swan_, not Cullen."

"Oh, yes," I sighed, relieved. _All right, Isabella Swan. You want a spanking? _I had growled. "Will you forgive me if I admit that I may have practiced a similar line a few times before tonight, before you were Mrs. Cullen?"

"Oh!" She laughed. "Yeah, I forgive you." Then she glared at my phone, which had vibrated itself stuck between the dashboard and windshield. "Alice saw all of it, didn't she?"

"No doubt. Ready to go home and hear the critic's review?" I turned the ignition and headed the car to the highway.

Bella hummed, non-committed. "Actually I want to know something."

I nodded. I liked to know what Bella wanted—when it didn't involve bondage and beatings.

"Tell me about your history. You know, with what we talked about before. Being punished by your parents. I want to know how that works."

I had expected this, since she had been probing for details all evening. Bella needed to know, so I gave her a brief memoir.

"When Carlisle changed me in 1918, I was a biting, hissing, clawing fiend…an injured lion—defensive, distrustful, and dangerous—except much more so, of course. I could cause a lot more damage than the average predator.

"My father was uniquely patient. As I progressed, he soothed me, kept me occupied, and taught me to tame my emotions. By the second year, I was calmer, more human, and more in control of myself, but I was also very sulky and bad tempered."

"Mmmm. So nothing's changed then," she teased.

I tried to look shamefaced but couldn't quite hide my smile. "Yes, nothing's changed. But just because I flew off the handle then, didn't mean I could blow through a town, destroy its historical monuments, and uproot trees and sidewalks."

"Edward, you didn't!"

"The good folks of New England still speculate about a series of tornados that hit during the 1920s."

"Poor Carlisle."

"Yes, poor Carlisle," I scoffed. "It's to be expected, Bella. I'm a musician. Nobody bats an eye when it's Elton John throwing a tantrum."

"Elton John doesn't cause natural disasters," she pointed out.

"That we know of. Anyway, I was Carlisle's _firstborn_, so to speak. I was the experiment. He tried scolding, confinement, community service…rewards for good behavior. He even tried letting me off the hook. Finally he got fed up trying to talk to me, and I suppose since I was acting like an ass, he chose to deliver the message there—pardon the language, ma'am. It worked, much to my chagrin, and the rest is history."

"Is this still going on?" she wanted to know. "I mean, are we forever subject to your parents' rules and punishments?"

"I don't know. I mean, each time it happens, I promise myself it will be the last time."

Bella took my hand in hers. "Tell me, when was the last time?"

I shifted my jaw to the side. This confession was embarrassing; it wasn't so long ago. "After the family meeting you called when we returned from Italy. Carlisle was quite put out. I broke a brand new plasma television, manhandled you, and shouted at Alice. Since we had narrowly avoided a tragedy in Volterra, my father wanted to let it slide. I think others in the family complained, specifically Jasper. At the first opportunity he could catch me away from you, Carlisle made me pay for my poor behavior." I mused, almost nostalgically. "I got it a lot over the course of our early romance…comparatively. But then, so did Rosalie."

Bella dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry if it was because of me."

"It's not your fault. We always got into plenty of trouble without your help." I brought her hand to my mouth and gently kissed the knuckles.

"If I do something wrong, would you ever turn me over to Carlisle? Or would he ever demand that I submit to his punishment?"

That was unthinkable. "No. You're mine. He knows that. As long as I keep you on the rails, he won't interfere. You know Carlisle. He wouldn't want that."

Then I remembered what Bella had said in the car, implying that she would seek discipline from my father's hand if I didn't deliver. I couldn't tolerate the thought, and so hurriedly established a means of prevention. Mrs. Cullen may like spankings, but I doubted she would risk two lashings.

"If you ever get yourself in trouble with Carlisle, you will be in trouble with me, too," I remarked smartly. This reminded me of an overly repeated paradigm from my human youth: a whipping at school means another whipping at home. Something like that. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

She nodded once. "If Carlisle has to punish me, you're going to punish me again?"

"You catch on quick, for someone so new to all of this." I grinned wickedly. I enjoyed making threats, and being able to follow through was even better.

Then Bella smashed all my confidence.

"Yeah, but don't think I'm going to let you punish me whenever you think I deserve it. You've got some unsettling control issues, Edward. What if you, fervent yet misguided, think you need to teach me a lesson, and I disagree? We need to talk about it first."

_Oh?_ Wasn't that what I had been trying to insist on all along? I didn't understand this new objection, though—I thought Bella had consented. She had begged—no, _forced_ me to spank her.

"Fine," I mumbled, more than a little hurt that she didn't trust me. "But I still don't want you seeking trouble with the rest of the family."

Bella stared out the passenger window. "I liked what happened in the backseat. Can we do that again?"

I recognized then that she was dividing a matter that I, in my personal experience, defined singularly. In my mind, spanking was punishment. Punishment was…well, _bad_. Bella wasn't letting me see inside her mind, but I guessed how she might separate it into categories. Perhaps parental correction constituted one category. Then there were my frustrated attempts to discipline in second. These might mesh with yet another type of punishment, which was erotic spanking used in foreplay. All three were painful, but it seemed she wanted the latter…if she could say when and how it was administered.

"I don't think so," I answered.

"Why not?" she cried.

"Because it's dangerous."

"It's not, and you started it!"

"Bella, you don't understand. During the discipline, my monster came out, and you know I can't control him."

There was a confused silence. " 'You can't control him,' " she repeated slowly. "You _can't_? But I like to play with your…'monster.' I think I'm pretty familiar with it by now, and I'm certainly not scared of it. Really, Edward. I don't get you. Your _monster_? Can't we call it something different?" When I turned to look, her eyes were locked on my crotch.

I roared with laughter. "Oh, no, Bella! No! I'm not talking about that." I bit my bottom lip to keep from cracking up completely. Bella was pouting. "You can name _that_ whatever you want. It's yours."

I struggled to explain better. "Um… My monster is what I call my innate vampire nature. He's sort of an alternate personality—a remnant from my early years of being a vampire. And I just finished telling you what that was like." She lowered her chin and urged me to continue. "Well, he wants to hurt you. He's always wanted to. He chose you to be his victim before I was attracted to you in a romantic way."

"But that was about my blood, which is not a problem anymore. Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse because this is too kinky for your taste?"

Leave it to Bella to see right through me. I didn't know how to respond to that without incriminating myself. Fortunately, we had reached the threshold of vampire hearing in our driveway. I put a finger to my lips to remind Bella that the household could hear any further conversation.

She ignored me. "Nope. Sorry, Edward. You can't pull the ethics card on me. By your own theory, we're already eternally damned."

"Bella, you can't tell the monster to come out and play and then try to tame him for your own purposes. Either we let him out or we keep him caged. I think you can guess which option I suggest."

I pulled into the garage. Alice was waiting impatiently on the porch steps. She pranced out to meet us before our argument developed into the future tempest she envisioned. Bella and I continued to glare at each other.

"Do you see what happens when you try to do this sort of thing without me?" she demanded, opening the passenger door. "Bella, if I had been home I would have made you change into a short skirt for the ride. That would have been a lot more fun for Edward." Then she turned to attack me with a wagging finger. "_You_ might have called me or—I don't know!—answered your phone maybe. You know better than to make rash decisions. We could have arranged all this out without the turmoil." She put an arm around Bella's shoulders, as if to comfort her.

I started to defend myself. "Alice, I—"

"Come on, Bella. We need to chat. Edward…" she shooed me with her hand, "go do your homework."

As Alice towed Bella into the house and toward the staircase, Emmett saw his opportunity to make amends with my wife. He jumped up on the seat cushions of Esme's white sofa and waved his arms in an impression of The Lonely Island's "I'm on a Boat."

"Look at me, Bella. I'm on a couch!" he sang. She paused to favor him with a long laugh, and he was delighted. _Such a child._ It was impossible to stay angry with Emmett.

I looked after her wistfully as she and my sister flew up the stairs. I heard the door slam in Alice and Jasper's bedroom. Emmett continued to make up rhymes about being on the couch, but I didn't listen.

What was I going to do with her? I wondered, utterly lost for the fourth time that day. I looked around for a sign. I needed advice. I needed…to talk. My eyes landed on Emmett, who was still, bouncing along the seat cushions, rapping enthusiastically. No. Not him. Where was…

"Carlisle!" I called.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Writing this story has been the most unconventional practice for Lent I've ever participated in. It definitely wouldn't classify as a traditional Lenten discipline. No matter. I'm enjoying myself, and I hope you are, too. If you celebrate it, Happy Easter!**

Carlisle's eyes expressed concerned detachment, which was nothing but a show. It was his "physician face," and I felt like a hypochondriac patient spouting off my myriad psychosomatic symptoms to the disbelieving doctor. On the inside, he was deliriously amused. Emphasis on the _delirious_.

"I've made a disastrous mistake, and now I don't know how to resolve it," I confessed, my face hid in my hands. We were sat on the patio in the backyard speaking in hushed tones.

He hummed and nodded, making sure I was finished with my testimonial. "Well, Edward, I must say I disagree. I don't think _you_ did anything. No one knows what causes a sexual fetish. Most likely it's something that was always present for Bella—perhaps she resisted it and her recent experience caused it to surface."

I looked up at him. The mock seriousness was still there. I rolled my eyes at him and he let his grin break loose. "I'm sorry, son," he said with a chuckle. "It's not that I think your confusion is funny. It's that you're using this as an opportunity for self-suffering and condemnation. So now you know what Bella expects in the bedroom. That's a gift, Edward. Some women refuse to say what they want, or it takes them years to trust a man enough to tell him."

"But I can't give it to her. It's not proper."

"I personally don't allow propriety to dictate what I can and can't do in my marriage bed. Particularly if my wife specially requests it."

I instantly looked at his face again, seeing and sensing fantasy mixed with memory. "I would have figured you for a 'vanilla' man, Dad," I said, laughing.

He grinned. "Not always. But _that_ I refuse to discuss with you. It wouldn't be proper, as you say. Had you wanted to know, you might have found out anyway." He was right—I really _didn't_ want to know.

"Carlisle!" We heard Esme call from inside the house. "I need more hot wax!"

I raised my eyebrows at my father.

"She's making candles, Edward. It's not what you think."

"Sure it's not," I smirked.

"I'll be right there, dear," he called back.

"Carlisle, what if I hurt her? I become something else altogether…I lose control. It's as if all the frustration of the past two years gets channeled through my right palm."

"You say you…_disciplined_ her twice now," Carlisle whispered. He waited while I checked to see that the family were all quietly engaged in their various activities.

I nodded, embarrassed again, although I didn't know why. He already knew the results of today's incidents. "Yes, upstairs this afternoon and in the car on the ride home."

"Then give yourself more credit. You love the young woman—you're not going to hurt her. Bella's not delicate, and it's not as though you want to torture her. You would only be giving her what she asks for. Besides, I wouldn't put it past Alice to intrude upon even the most licentious of situations if she anticipates anything going badly." He paused. "Speaking of Alice, you ought to talk to Jasper about this. I think he can give you more insight."

"Jasper?" I searched him out and found him in the attic, completing a project for Alice. Sure enough, he was waiting for me. Alice must have prepared him. "I don't think he's really the best example for how to control a wife," I argued.

"That's not what this is about anymore, Edward," Carlisle said seriously. "It's more about how to _please_ a wife. Talk to Jasper."

"Jasper. Really?" I asked. Carlisle nodded, thinking about how content and relaxed Alice was in her relationship with her mate. "All right. I may do that."

My father stood and squeezed my shoulder as he passed me. "Enjoy yourself, son. And enjoy your young wife. You deserve a bit of escapism." He smiled and I followed his thoughts as he made his way to the kitchen, taking a tall pot of scalding wax from the stove with his bare hands. He carried it to my mother, who sat at the dining room table with wicks tied to all ten fingers.

"Sorry to interrupt you, darling," she said, "but the wax hardened before I finished with these. I'm all tied up."

He set the replacement pot down and moved the cooled wax out of the way. "Just the way I like you, love," he murmured. "Let me help." Carlisle dipped his fingertip in the fragrant wax and drizzled it over Esme's splayed fingers. Then he blew on it and softly kissed her hands as she giggled.

He knew what she liked, and she was comfortable with him. I coveted that familiarity. I wanted to make Bella melt with desire like that. Of course, Esme preferred traditional romantic gestures. It would be easier for me if Bella responded to courtly love. Yet she didn't appreciate my groveling, she detested gifts and fancy outings, and she got embarrassed if I tried to recite love poetry. Instead she liked to be tied up and whipped. I ought to have gone skipping about, kicking my heels together in the air. But I could feel nothing except defeated.

I had monitored the goings on in Alice's bedroom during my chat with Carlisle. Bella started by giving my sister an earful for telling on her, but Alice argued that it would have come out anyway and nothing would have changed. Now Alice was coaching Bella about how to get what she wanted without misbehaving.

Well, that was good. But Bella looked so sad.

"You need to be patient," Alice was telling her, rubbing her knee. "He wants to give you everything you want—"

"Unless he thinks it's bad for me," Bella remarked glumly.

Alice grimaced in sympathy. "This is difficult for Edward to endure. You are well acquainted with his Victorian sensibilities. As your husband and man of the house, he can take responsibility for physically punishing you, even if he'd rather not. It's the sexual lifestyle he finds indecent."

"He thinks I'm a pervert," she whispered, dejected.

"No, Bella. He's still working it out. I know how Edward feels for you. He can't deny you. And it's not like he wouldn't want to control _everything _anyway. He's a natural dominant. Don't you worry."

Seeing Bella's hopeless sorrow through Alice's eyes was pure torment. I wanted to come through for Bella. I would be anything for her—whatever she needed me to be, I would accept it and make the changes. I didn't know how, but I would find the way.

As I traveled up three flights of stairs, Alice affirmed her prediction. "There. I see now I'm correct. He's going to do it."

"What can I do for you, brother?" Jasper asked amicably when I appeared in the attic.

"I suppose that depends on what Alice told you I need." I waited, but he only smirked at me. "May I help you?" I asked politely.

"Sure. We're sorting clothes by size and season and boxing them up to give away." He threw me a tape gun. "Alice would have liked to do it herself but she's otherwise occupied. What's brought you up here, Edward?"

"Well…something new has come about." I assembled three boxes before I spoke again. "What all did Alice tell you?" I tried again. He was feeling slightly smug; he knew something.

"She just said that you would need to talk to me. Oh, and she packed you a bag."

Alice packed me a bag… Was Bella kicking me out? Or was she _going_ to kick me out in the near future? _Oh, God no! What did I do?_

"Don't panic, Edward. It's a bag of props. You know Alice gets carried away. That's just Alice." Jasper slid a leather duffle bag along the floorboards to me. "Judging by what's in there, though, I reckon you do need to talk."

_Props_… I guessed that meant I was allowed to stay. For some reason, my fear didn't wear off as I unzipped the bag and examined the items within. "I apologize, Jasper. I'm unaccustomed to all of this. I'm rather taken by surprise."

"Breathe, Edward," he advised, slapping me with an air of calm. "Why don't you start by telling me what happened."

I swallowed, closed my eyes, and then relayed the events of the day. "While I was away with Carlisle today, Bella took Jake and Nessie to First Beach. When she returned, she tried to keep me in the dark about it, because—well, you remember. Nessie leaked the information by accident. Bella and Emmett got into it, so I took her to my old room for discussion, but I ended up giving her a spanking. I had expected Bella to be furious with me, but instead, she—she…_pounced_."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes. But I stopped her. Then we drove Jake and Nessie to Charlie's, so we could take tonight to talk it out. However, we argued during the ride home. Bella threw a bottle of water in my face—no, the water, not the bottle," I clarified, hearing his mental confusion. "I pulled the car over and spanked her again, and then…"

"_I think I can guess what happened next,"_ Jasper was thinking.

When I confirmed with a nod, he chuckled. "Well, well. Driving Miss Bella…" His inflected way of speaking and soothing vibes relaxed me enough that I laughed with him.

"So how do I do this?" I asked, gesturing at the bag.

"I can show you, but first…what's this resistance I'm sensing?"

"Obviously…this is…wrong."

"How so?" he demanded.

"It's deviant. A man shouldn't hurt a woman. Ever! And to feel sexually gratified for it is vulgar and base."

Contrary to my moral zeal, Jasper was detecting my arousing interest. "So it's not only Bella who gets…excited?"

"No," I admitted and dropped my head into my hands. "It makes me 'happy,' too." My voice was heavy with disapproval and sarcasm.

"Then consider yourself a lucky man!"

I groaned.

"If you're so deeply disturbed, Edward, you needn't necessarily hurt her to proceed," he suggested.

"She said she wanted it to hurt."

"All right then. Let's begin with what you already know about this sort of play. You're a mind reader. It's hard to believe that you could be this naïve. What have you overheard?"

"I may be a mind reader, but I do try to keep my mind out of the gutter," I scoffed rudely.

"Listen, Edward. Just because you step a toe into the gutter doesn't mean you'll ruin your fine suit."

He was mocking me. I felt my temper getting the best of me, and so did Jasper.

"Fine. If you can't let go of your legalism, tell her no, and that's final," he dismissed.

"I can't," I said through gritted teeth. "She's implied that she would make mischief so Carlisle or I would be forced to correct her behavior. And I believe her. She acted out in the car to provoke action."

"You don't say," he responded dryly. I wasn't telling him anything he hadn't already figured out. "Well, she can't be acting the fool to get your attention. You must not allow it."

"I know! So I told her if she misbehaved to be punished by Carlisle, I would punish her, too."

I recognized Jasper's exasperation with me. He sighed. "She likes spankings, Edward. Basically you just handed her the keys to your Aston Martin so she could crash it into a wall then set it on fire."

Damn it. He was right. "So what do I do?"

"First, you revise your threat. Tell her that if she gets herself into trouble, you will insist that you be treated to the same punishment she gets."

Oh. That was…brilliant.

"Would you do that for her?"

I didn't like whippings, but… "If it keeps her out of trouble, yes," I agreed.

"I guarantee she will not even consider it. Second, you give her what she wants in private so she doesn't go looking for it elsewhere. Take control and let her experience dominant Edward in the bedroom. There you can set rules and consequences, and experiment safely with tactile sensations, pain, and sexual pleasure. Which brings us back to this bag, incidentally."

I listened for the next hour to a tutorial from Jasper. I knew he and Alice liked to role-play, but I never realized he knew so much about…what was in the bag. As he instructed, I saw flashes from his past relationship with Maria. Knowing that she—evil, sadistic harpy—was his mistress didn't make me feel any better about doing it with Bella. But his lecture was evenly tempered by his play with Alice.

"Think you're ready?" he checked.

"Won't this frighten her?" I asked, scrutinizing a severe-looking whip.

"She gets off on being scared," Jasper replied perceptively. "How do you think you got a human girl to fall in love with _you_, a vampire? You recall her addiction to adrenaline, the reckless behavior, the insatiable curiosity about the macabre…she was always attracted to trouble—"

"I thought trouble was attracted to her?" I asked, interrupting.

"I'm rethinking that theory. We should have realized all along. Bella likes it. I mean she _really_ likes it. Don't look so disgusted, Edward. It worked in your favor."

I had been keeping track of Bella when I heard her tell Alice that she wanted to talk to Carlisle.

"Thank you, Jasper," I muttered. Then I seized up the implements and crammed everything back in the bag.

"Whoa there, Trigger," Jasper said, hand on my wrist as I stood up and zipped the duffle. "Bella wants to see Carlisle…not you. Give her a moment." He discerned my growing anxiety. "You can trust Carlisle," he soothed.

"It's not Carlisle I don't trust," I said in a hurry.

"Hold on. This will not work if you two don't trust each other. Seek out Alice. What's she see? Anything bad?" I shook my head. "Wait, Edward. If Bella needs you, you can get to her in two seconds."

I watched my wife approach my parents, who still sat in the dining room, surrounded by hundreds of hand-dipped candles.

"Carlisle. Esme."

"Good evening, Bella," my father greeted, as my mother said, "Hello, dear."

When she didn't speak again, Esme got up and wrapped an arm around her waist. "What is it?" she asked softly.

Bella was looking at her shoes. "Um. I wanted to say I'm sorry for sneaking off to the beach today. I knew it was risky, but I did it anyway. I don't know why." She attempted a stuttered breath. "But I am sorry."

Esme crooked a finger under Bella's chin and lifted it so she could see her eyes. "You don't need to apologize to us. It's quite all right."

Carlisle stood and embraced Bella with one arm, tucking her head under his chin, and held Esme in the other. "You're forgiven, sweet girl. I thank God that nothing happened, but if it had, we would have fixed it together. We are so happy to have you in our family, Bella. Not only did you bring love to our first son, but you made us grandparents, too."

Bella sniffed, obviously emotional. "I promise not to do it again," she said. I exhaled in relief.

"_Darling. What a sweetheart,"_ Jasper was thinking with approval. He gave me another dose of calm for the road, and I felt my muscles relax. I smiled my gratitude.

"All right, Edward. I think it's time you take your bag and your young lady home," he announced.

I couldn't have agreed more.

**Author's note 2: Next chapter takes Edward and Bella into the bedroom! I'm so excited!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: Heartfelt thanks to all who are faithfully reading. I _adore_ reading your reviews!**

**I must say a special thanks to my beta reader, sisterglitch. Without her patience and persistence with this insecure, anxious writer, chapter seven would not have made it to publication. We've been through the particulars of tying a girl to a bed and the timeline of an orgasm. How close can you get to a person you've never physically met? I don't know, but I love this woman!**

**Now, without further ado, I present the next episode of "Edward: The Reluctant Vampire Dominant." Hope you enjoy...**

I sailed over the river and settled into a reluctant walk through the damp, moonlit woods to the cottage.

Yes, I did mean to say _walk_. I was plodding, somewhat under duress, trying to concentrate well enough to form a plan. Jasper gave me the details I would need for tonight, but he neglected to provide a script. It was up to me to choose what "toys" to use and how to direct—what Jasper titled—a "scene." He acted as though my circumstance was a dream come true. I, however, wasn't feeling very fanciful.

Alice had escorted my wife back to our house ahead of me, presumably for a wardrobe change. Since I didn't plan to allow Bella to keep her clothes on, I wondered what Alice was thinking. I made myself "look away," so to speak, so I could keep my mind clear to design tonight's coming attraction.

Jasper said I should require Bella to be forthcoming with me in order to provide the most satisfying experience. This presented a challenge, because she embarrassed easily and preferred to keep her thoughts protected. Even if I asked her outright, she wasn't guaranteed to give an answer. I was accustomed to reading Bella's facial expressions, but even if I saw her hesitation, unless she explained what was the matter and why, my interpretation was futile. We misunderstood each other a lot still.

My biggest fear at this point was disappointing her.

When I was about fifty yards from the cottage and committed to a scene, I decided it was time to get into character.

Alice was inside blabbing about our lampshades needing an update.

"Alice," I barked. "Get out of my house!"

"Eek!" she squealed. "Hold your horses! I'm leaving!" She was impressed that I had surprised her with my tone.

"_Take it away, Mr. Cullen,"_ she told me, winking as she ran past.

I strode through the open front door and dropped the bag. When I turned to the left, I sucked in a startled breath.

Bella was expecting me.

She leaned in the threshold of the hallway that led to our bedroom. She was wearing a pretty silk floral robe and beige high-heeled shoes. Her eyes hungrily roamed my body as I less-than-subtly scanned hers. She noticed and a mischievous twinkle displaced her anxious features.

She pulled the tie on her robe so that it fell open, revealing a form-fitting garter slip that came to the tops of her thighs. The suspenders held a pair of nude stockings. The costume's naughtiness was balanced by innocent colors: pale green accented with threaded pink ribbons. The green of the fabric cast a lovely glow over her pale skin, causing her to look less vampire and more like a playful woodland spirit—in need of a good hiding.

_God bless Alice, _I offered up, feeling something like a holy gratitude. But perhaps _unholy_ was the word I was looking for.

Bella was thoroughly beddable. Her hair was tousled and loose…probably from being tipped over my knee twice and riding up and down on my lap in the backseat of the car.

"Can your monster come out to play?" she taunted, staring at my...well, staring down _there_.

Caught off guard by her teasing, I laughed quietly, before I could stop myself. She looked back up at me, tongue in cheek. _Oh, yes indeed, Mrs. Cullen. The monster's coming out. Both of them actually. _Maybe this would be fun after all.

I rubbed my hand through the hair on the back of my head then wiped my face of all humor. The nymph was trying to seduce me.

_She's trying to steal the show, _my inner vampire complained, and I in turn held the reins tighter.

"Ah-ah, Isabella. We're going to do this my way. Give me the robe," I commanded, hand out. She obliged, frowning slightly. "Go to our room and kneel on the bed."

Bella looked over her shoulder toward the bedroom. When she turned her face back to me, the little crease between her eyebrows had appeared. I ached to smooth it away with my thumb.

"Kneel?" she asked guilelessly. "What about the shoes? Do you want my shoes on or off?"

I flashed to her side. My lip curled and I repeated myself with more force. "Go. Now."

As she turned to comply, my palm cracked down on her behind, making her jump and run down the hall. I wanted to but refused to rebuke myself for that smack.

I watched until she had disappeared, and then I crossed over to the bag on the floor. Unzipping it, I reached in and found what I wanted. I closed the bag and took a moment to reassess. I had broken character, but at least it was at the start. I would try harder from now on to stay in control.

Now I didn't know what to do about _my_ clothes and shoes. Jasper hadn't mentioned, nor had I anticipated. To be truthful, neither of us ever needed to consider our apparel thanks to our very own little fashion authority. I was feeling slightly neglected; never had I so desired Alice's expertise.

So what were Doms wearing these days?

Since I hadn't found any black leather pants in the bag, I stripped off the socks and shoes. Then I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall off my arms. I pulled the tee shirt over my head and tossed it over the back of the sofa. After a moment of deliberation, I slid the first shirt back on—a white linen collared shirt—leaving it unbuttoned and rolling the sleeves. Then Bella could see some of my chest and abdomen. I left my belt in the loops and fastened. I thought it looked…authoritative. I mussed my hair with my hand. It was slightly wet from the walk through the drizzling forest.

Jasper had said anticipation would heighten the experience for Bella. That theory held true, it seemed. When I entered the bedroom and deposited a couple of things from the bag on the dresser, Bella was knelt on the bed watching me with curious, hungry eyes. Her hands were pressed against the covers, in between her legs, and she was panting. Aware of the strange implement I grasped in my left hand, I felt much like an animal trainer at the circus. I almost expected her to snarl and swipe a paw at me.

The shoes were still on. Mmmm. Exquisite. Did I have a shoe fetish? I didn't think so…

"Isabella. You've been a naughty girl today. Going to the beach and lying to your husband. Throwing water in his face while he's driving…" I clicked my tongue and stepped close, my face in hers.

"Your husband is too indulgent. He's a gentleman, _old-fashioned_… I am not. I'm rude. I want to make you squirm. I want to say and do"—I leaned my mouth to her ear and whispered dangerously—"_indecent_ things to you. And I'm warning you now—I will not tolerate any more misbehavior. You've received two spankings already. Let's not make it three, hmm?"

She looked down and nodded. "You're my husband, too…" she insisted quietly.

"Well, that either makes you a very lucky girl…or you're in a whole lot of trouble."

Bella smiled.

"Listen carefully and follow my instructions without hesitation, because I will not hesitate to punish you again." I paused. "In fact, I promise to punish you regardless. If you're a good girl, I will whip you with this."

I held up the prop for Bella to see. Jasper described it as the vampire version of a cane. It was about three feet long and made of a stiff silicone-like material, which wouldn't break when it made contact like a bamboo cane would.

Bella seemed excited as she shifted and licked her bottom lip. I set it on the bed. She brought a hand between her legs. My hand whipped out and snatched hers away. "No, Isabella. Be patient. Don't touch." She whimpered.

"If you disobey, I will take you over my knee and spank you, and it will hurt."

She swallowed but, again, appeared stimulated by the threat.

"Are you ready for your first instruction? You may not like this…but I would like for you to try. I want you to lift your shield and keep it up until we are finished."

Apprehension fell over her features. "Edward, I—"

"No arguing," I snapped. "You can do it. I know this is difficult for you and you're not practiced at it. I will be lenient and if I sense it's dropped, I'll remind you. Here. To help you focus…" I took an item from the dresser. It was a blindfold, like the sort the airlines give out, black and satin. I slipped the elastic over her head. Now that her eyes were under cover, it was imperative that I be allowed access to her thoughts.

"Lift your shield now, Isabella." She obeyed. She was a medley of emotion: nervous, curious, anticipatory, and excited. Jasper was right. Bella "got off" on being scared. Giving me insight into her mind was more frightening to her than being naked or whipped.

"Good girl," I praised quietly. She smiled and recovered her composure. This reaction was unexpected. Typically Bella did not like to be told what to do and I had anticipated a lot of fuss. I kissed her lips quickly.

Then I scooped her up in my arms and laid her back down. I returned to the dresser and fetched the other prop, which was a special sort of cable, not easily broken by our kind. Where Jasper got it, I don't know. Swiftly I worked, extending her arms over her head, binding the wrists with the rope, and tying it to the center rails of the bed frame. Next, I walked to the end of the bed and slipped off her lovely shoes.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked suddenly. She was feeling vulnerable. Still aroused.

"Isabella, it's time I establish the next rule. You are not allowed to talk. You may not ask questions or make comments. No mouth. At all. Understand?" She nodded. "Good. If I ask you a direct question, you may answer politely. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

A wicked grin spread across my face.

Despite Bella's objection to the position, I spread her legs wide. "Relax," I chided, forcing the feet to point to opposite corners of the bed. Separately, I wrapped the rope around each ankle and tied it to a post.

When she was finally trussed and in position, I took a moment to survey the sight.

Bella was wearing panties—the veil that separated me from the holy of holies—but I expected I could work around. When I wanted the obstruction out of the way, the mesh-like material would offer no serious opposition to being torn.

Since I had informed her that she wasn't allowed to talk, she had resorted to a pathetic whining. Whatever I was going to give her, she wanted it and soon.

Supporting my upper body with my arms, I hovered over hers. Then, with my teeth, I pulled the top of her slip down, exposing her luscious breasts. Tilting my head, I took an eager nipple in my mouth and took turns sucking and chewing. Bella gasped and moaned. I came up on my knees and skimmed my hands lightly down her curves.

I confess that the next activity was something I had always wanted to try. Bella never would let me. She said it tickled, but I think it was more embarrassment than sensitivity. Now that she was tied, blindfolded, and shut up, I could have my way with her.

I grabbed her hips and leaned down, pressing my nose lightly to the panties, whereabouts I felt the small yet pleasurable company of her clitoris. That was when she guessed what was coming.

Bella began to buck and thrash against the restraints. I held her hips firmly to the bed and kissed the crotch of the panties. All of a sudden, I heard the restraint on her right leg break, and her knees snapped closed so fast I hardly had time to move my face out of the way. I forced her legs open again and retied the rope.

I couldn't tease anymore; I would need to invade straightaway.

Once the right leg was properly anchored, I brought my mouth back to its target and used my teeth to carefully nip around the edges. The panties shredded agreeably and I attacked, my cool tongue gliding inside her unveiled opening. Bella was going wild with desire. Everything in and around my mouth was throbbing and quivering. _Oh, no!_ She was thinking. _No, no. Please! Stop!_ She shouted silently, while her whole being was shouting, _Don't stop!_

I must admit, the feeling was mutual. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I decided that I could live in there.

That was when the cable fractured again, but on the left leg. Bella had a foot on my head; she was using it to push me away. I was trying to make my way back to my dessert, when the rope holding her arms broke. She reared up and tried to bite me, coming awfully close to my ear since she couldn't see.

_Stupid, useless vampire rope! Stupid Jasper for telling me it would work. Stupid Alice for not predicting this and warning me not to use it!_

For a split second I couldn't comprehend why Bella was behaving so viciously when we had been enjoying such a splendid time. But then I discovered that Bella's baser instincts were in operation. Creature of the night that she was, sex and violence went together like piano music and candlelight. She wanted me to fight her back; it was erotic and thrilling for her.

That's when I decided to change the entertainment. We would do that again later, I consoled myself. She had misbehaved and didn't deserve any treats at the moment.

I dodged Bella's teeth again, reached over and pulled at the rope around her right ankle, which, sure enough, disintegrated between my fingers. Then I lifted her up and over my shoulder, smacking her behind with my hand. She squeaked. I grabbed a couple of pillows and stacked them on the side of the bed. Then I dropped Bella face down on top, her legs off the bed, toes on the floor. I took a moment to reposition the pillows under her hips before admiring this unique view of my wife.

I snatched the rod from the bed. There was a strap packed in the bag, but just looking at it made my insides flip. The thought of hitting Bella with a strap was nauseating—probably due to my own devilish encounters with a similar strip of leather. If _she_ were interested, I would need time to adjust to the idea. Tonight I would let the cane deliver a message to those superbly curved cheeks and thighs.

"That was bad behavior, young lady. And bad behavior deserves to be punished. Will you stay in position, or must I hold you down?" Her wrists were still bound together with the rope.

She turned to look behind her, but, of course, she was blindfolded. I ran the tip of the rod over her back to give her a clue.

"_I'll be still, sir,"_ she replied without speaking. I hadn't considered the potential problems or benefits of Bella talking to me this way. Nor had I given her permission to do so. Well, I would have to think about it later. After we finished, I could fine-tune the rules.

With the cane in my right hand, I pressed it to her naked backside, raised it, and then snapped it back to where it had started, surprising her with the sharp contact. She drew an overlong breath and silently asked for more. It stung, but not so much that she was in distress. I lifted it over the opposite shoulder and swished it down and across, backhand style. I kept this up, swinging it one way and then another, and I couldn't help but think how lovely she would look if the switching left stripes on her skin.

After a couple dozen strokes, she was smarting.

Her breathing became stuttered, and the shield dropped without warning. Bella's hands, which had been tied and stretched out over her head, came free from their binds and one sneaked its way under her body to her nagging sex.

Her touching was enticing but so aggravating. The fulfillment of punishment or pleasure would be mine. I threw the rod down and spanked her hard. She yanked her hand out with haste.

"Isabella. Your shield needs to come up. And you may not touch!" I reached under her waist and lifted. Then I dragged the pillows out and folded her back onto the bed. "On your hands and knees," I ordered. She came up and tried again to look back at me despite the blindfold. I petted the small of her back then pulled her toward me. "Good girl," I said again.

I shrugged off my shirt, unbuckled my belt, and slid the pants off. Bella's body reacted urgently to the sounds of my undressing. She wanted to touch herself. She was begging me to make her come.

I was suffering from my own impatience, wanting in so desperately it hurt. Still standing at the edge of the bed, I gripped myself tightly to slow my movements, found the entrance, and slid inside. Bella moaned in the back of her throat. I repositioned my hands low on her waist and held her steady as I rocked my hips, coming out and back in again. Slowly. The feeling of fullness, followed by a gradual emptiness, and combined with the protracted pace, drove her mad with wanting.

Sensing Bella's feelings and dealing with my own made it especially difficult for me to control my impending orgasm. On the brink of losing it, I pulled out completely. I bent over and reached around to Bella's breasts. Using both hands, I took her nipples in my fingers and pinched and teased. Her head rolled.

Then I stood back up and resettled myself inside. After a pause—which Bella resented—I started the slow dance again. Bit by bit, I sped up. When I felt the tightening of her orgasm I released, too. Her insides frantically collapsed around me, just as her shield crashed down.

My head came back. I yelled out, and I heard a startled flock of birds from the surrounding trees flapping to the sky. "Gah! Oh, oh God…please… No! Bella…_no_. Yes…yes… That's…right… I…want…more… Jesus Christ! Ungh!"

I continued to verbally express my rapture, eventually disintegrating to an incoherent mumble, as I laid my upper body across Bella's back and pressed my lips to her shoulder. "Fuck," I breathed.

Bella smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

"I feel I ought to buy you flowers," I admitted quietly, but Bella just laughed at me. We lay nose to nose, kissing on the bed, and unclothed (Bella's slip hung on her body, but just barely). Remarkably it happened again—the make-out session concluded rather than introduced the headlining act.

"Are you all right?" I asked, overly concerned now that her shield was up. "You're not going to ask Charlie to issue a restraining order, are you? Perhaps I should forego the flowers and consider paying you off. We could get a lawyer, draft a cease and desist..."

"No! Honestly, Edward, I'm fine! Well, except...my butt hurts," she confessed shyly.

"Come here. I'll make it better." I sat up and pulled Bella facedown over my lap to rub the hurt away.

"This is embarrassing," she mumbled into the covers.

"Oh, _this_ is embarrassing?" I questioned sarcastically. "I would imagine you were accustomed to this position by now. I was beginning to think you might be _addicted_ to it."

"Yeah, but it's still embarrassing. I would have thought by becoming a vampire, my thighs would be smaller. Now _that_—what you did with the rope and the blindfold...oh, and the whip thingy!—that was phenomenal! Alice said you could do it, but—"

" 'Phenomenal...' " I repeated, shaking my head.

"Don't act, Edward. You thought so, too." Bella laughed again. "You were very articulate there at the end."

"Mmm," I growled, focusing more intently on the injured area propped up on my thighs.

"Ow," Bella complained, looking back at me over her shoulder.

"Forming an intelligible thought at that point in time was impractical. And it was next to impossible to keep those thoughts from leaving my mouth."

She rested her chin back on folded arms and cocked her head. "I don't think I've ever heard you use that word."

"I don't think I've ever used it...aloud anyway," I replied lightly.

"Can I say it then?"

"No!" I was scandalized by the thought of such a filthy word issuing from Mrs. Cullen's sweet mouth. "I mean, please don't." Now that playtime was over, I didn't think I was allowed to tell her what to do anymore. It would take some adjustment—this switching back and forth.

"I said it during a moment of weakness. I really think you're trying to kill me. I mean it, Bella. You're not very submissive. Didn't Alice tell you how to behave during a scene?"

"What scene? No, she didn't mention it." Bella shrugged. "I'll admit, I was quite...overcome with passion."

"Savagery is more like it."

"I was letting my inner monster out, too," she pouted. "Speaking of...your _other_ monster is poking me," she said in reference to my perpetual erection.

"I apologize. Perhaps this will help," I said, uprighting her. "Oh yes, and this, too," I added, pulling up the slip's bodice to hide her naked breasts. Bella giggled.

"Do you want to go again?" she asked.

"It's almost morning. We can afford the break."

"The monster needs its rest?"

"Precisely."

"Okay." She hugged her knees to her chest and sighed. "So, what do we do now?"

"I suppose we should talk about things. What you liked, what you didn't—"

"I liked all of it."

"All right, then. I would like to discuss your behavior tonight. In particular, I want to point out the _dangerous_ behavior. You almost bit me! Thank heaven I still possessed some self-restraint at that moment and didn't react like a vampire. We might have had a _real_ fight. We need to agree on some general rules, and you need to mind—"

"Oh, Edward. I wasn't that bad."

"You broke the ropes! The _vampire-proof_ ropes!"

"You've been a vampire ninety years longer than me, and _I_ know there's no such thing as vampire-proof rope. I think somebody was pulling your leg."

"Yes, well. I think Jasper was assuming you would be more meek in bed."

"What?" Bella made an angry face. "Jasper _assumed!_ Why was Jasper making predictions about me in bed? What else did he say?"

"He just didn't expect you to break through the restraints."

She scoffed. "I think I'm insulted. Come on, Cullen, fess up. What else did you two talk about?"

This reminded me that I would need to disclose the new condition. If Bella made trouble with the family, Jasper advised that I accept the same punishment she got. He said she wouldn't risk any misbehavior with the new terms, but I wasn't convinced. I might be required to take a whipping before she knew to behave herself. I dreaded the thought...but for Bella, I would go along.

Nevertheless, I wouldn't mention the new arrangement until later because I didn't want her to know it was Jasper's idea. It might not seem as definitive since it didn't originate with me.

"Let's see... He taught me how to use the props, how to _be_ with you... He's had experience."

"If I didn't know better, I would suspect _you_ had experience. What you did with your mouth and my panties..." Bella's eyes shifted. "I didn't know you wanted to do that."

"I know I never asked. It seemed indelicate. You remember that I tried to do it once before, but you made me stop before I even made my way down there. You laughed and said it tickled. Afterward, I was too ashamed to discuss it."

"Me, too. And to be truthful, I didn't want to be obligated to do the same for you. So...I made the excuse and didn't bring it up again."

_Oh, well, that's disappointing._ I inwardly tried to console myself. I didn't want to inhibit Bella now that she was being open with me.

She squirmed. "I'm sorry. It's hard to look at you when we talk about this stuff. May I lay over your lap again, please?"

"No, look at me. I know it's unseemly talk, but if we can't discuss these things, we can't very well proceed. Even if you don't want to do it for me, I'm going to do it to you again and soon. And if you break the ties again, well...I don't really know what. I'll ask Jazz."

"Ask Jazz? Why don't you just spank me?" She blinked coyly.

"I don't think so. Jasper says you like spankings." Bella gasped indignantly. "I suspect he would suggest another consequence."

"He _knows_ that?" she blasted. "I figured there was more to this Jasper thing than you're letting on. I cannot believe you are talking to him about me—about that!"

I was speechless for a moment.

"Be annoyed with Alice, not me. She prepared the bag of props for Jasper to give to me...with instructions and suggestions."

Bella's expression changed from furious to curious in an instant. "Oh. Jasper suggested you...go down on me?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "Why?"

"Did he tell you to call me by my full name, too?"

"Yes."

"What did he say I should call you?"

"He offered options. He said it was my preference. Sir is fine with me. I don't know—perhaps Master Cullen would be appropriate, too."

" 'Master Cullen,' " she repeated.

"Jasper said I might call you by a pet name."

"What do you want to name me?" she asked, lighting with anticipation.

"A pet name... Okay. How about," I frowned, "Isabella...Isabella...my stupid lamb?"

"Edward!" She pushed on my chest.

"That's Sir Edward to you," I smirked. She swatted at me, but I leapt off the bed and disappeared into the closet. Bella joined me a moment later, shuffling through her denim drawer as I did the same.

I was so certain that we were thinking the same thing (Renesmee), that I didn't bother to ask.

"Bella... When I was in the attic with Jasper, I heard you apologize to my parents."

"Yeah."

"That wasn't necessary, but thank you all the same. Carlisle and Esme were quite touched. It took courage, and I suppose you must have had a change of heart since we last talked about it." Bella was looking into the shirt she was about to pull over her head.

"In addition, however, I would like you to talk to Nessie about what happened yesterday."

"And say what exactly?"

"You know...why it was wrong and why you won't be doing it again."

Her eyes met mine instantly. "Is that a requirement?" she demanded.

Here we go. Now I was expected to be a gentleman again.

"No. But I think it's the right thing to do." Playing the part as was expected, I took her hand to my lips.

Bella's mouth puckered, but she didn't answer.

As we started for the front door, Bella shouted. "Holy crow, Edward! Hide the bag!"

_Oh, right! _I fetched the duffle and sped around the cottage, stowing the props and picking up discarded clothing. After hiding it all away, I threw the bag up to the top shelf in the closet.

Taking about an hour to complete the process, we ran to the garage, drove to Charlie's, picked up Jake and Nessie, dropped Jake at his father's house, and drove back to home base.

After a short visit to say good morning to parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, we started back through the woods to our home.

Running with Nessie was touch and go, as we took extra care to watch our step. As a rule, vampires do not stumble, but when a little girl runs ahead of two vampires (and she must always be the leader), she will stop very abruptly every few yards to inspect a flower or a pinecone or an animal track. It's usually identical to the last flower or pinecone or track she investigated not two minutes before, but nevertheless, it deserved the same measure of attention. And if those two vampires are not paying attention, ready to stop without warning when their lead runner halts and bends, a terrible accident could result.

Ordinarily I would convince Ness to ride on my back. But this morning, with her hair fixed in pigtails that swung as she skipped and dipped, she was irresistibly cute, and I was in no hurry. Bella—being the girl's mother—was thinking about Nessie's physiological needs.

"Nessie, come on," Bella encouraged gently. "It's a very pretty flower—"

"It's Queen Anne's Lace," I informed.

"Right, but you need to eat breakfast."

"I already ate breakfast," Nessie protested, grabbing Bella's hand and showing her a glob of noodles Charlie served her last night for dinner.

"Spaghetti? No, honey, that was your dinner. Come to the cottage and I'll fix you breakfast. Do you want cereal, eggs...?"

We finally persuaded Nessie to tow us toward our little house, but she insisted she be served spaghetti again for her morning meal.

It pleased us to no end when Renesmee ate. I had felt the same about feeding Bella when she was human. It was very gratifying to provide sustenance to one you care for. And so, when we didn't hunt together, Bella thought it was a nice habit to sit down to family meals. Although Bella and I didn't _actually_ eat, Nessie liked it if we pretended. Also, Esme was teaching Ness manners, and she in turn instructed us at the table.

Nessie and I sat at the round table while Bella prepared the pasta. My daughter was replaying a memory for me—playing catch with Charlie. Knowing I could see her thoughts without her touch, she didn't hold my hand. Caught up in the moment and adoring my daughter, I found myself leaning toward her, subconsciously willing her to touch me.

Suddenly she slapped the table hard right under my chin.

"Elbows off the table, young man!" she declared, surprising me. She _was_ learning a lot from my mother.

The sharp noise reminded me of the cane I had used on Bella, and I realized with alarm that I didn't remember hiding it with the other things.

"Sorry, Miss Cullen," I said meekly. "I forgot my manners. May I please be excused for a moment?"

She made a big act of considering my request. "You may. But hurry back; breakfast is almost ready."

I nodded at her, ran into the bedroom, and scanned the surroundings. The rod wasn't on the bed, which was where I had last seen it. I ducked and looked under, where it must have fallen. I extracted it ceremoniously, stretched it out between my palms—as if it were a royal scepter or a sword for knighting—and carried it to the closet for stashing. I really admired this object and its proclivity for commanding respect...just by being what it was. How marvelous.

"Edward Cullen! Your food is getting cold!" Nessie yelled at me.

"Coming!" I called and quickly deposited the thing in its leather bag up top. That ought to keep the little headmistress at the table from finding us out.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, ma'am." I bowed.

"Please be seated," she invited as I flashed into my chair. "Napkin on your lap."

Nessie enthusiastically ate exactly four forkfuls before she became more interested in what Bella and I were going to eat...or what we pretended to eat rather.

"Now sip your tea," she instructed, "like this."

"Renesmee," Bella said, "I want you to try to eat a couple more bites." She waited for Nessie to comply. "I need to talk to you about our beach trip yesterday. Unfortunately, I can't go with you to First Beach anymore—at least during the day."

"How come?" Ness asked.

"Because we don't want people to see me sparkle in the sun."

Nessie nodded. "I know that. It's okay. Jake can take me to the beach, because I don't want you to get in trouble." The next sentence came so suddenly it didn't register first in her brain and thereby took me by shock. "Can I have a baby brother?"

Bella, playing at drinking tea, spit the water from her teacup out all over the table. I smirked at her and offered my napkin.

"We'll have to see, Ness," she told her. Then she lifted her shield and said to me, _"We would have to steal one."_

"I don't think Carlisle and Esme would approve of kidnapping," I murmured, trying to hide my grin. Then I turned to my daughter and said, "Nessie, your Aunt Alice is almost here." Bella's eyebrows came up.

"Yay!" Nessie squealed and jumped into my lap. "Is she bringing her nail colors?"

"I don't know." I narrowed in on my sister's mind to see what brought her out, but by then she was through the door and tossing me my mobile phone.

"Sorry to barge in," she trilled, "but you left your phone in the car and you're about to miss an important call."

I frowned. I would have felt irritated, but after my night with Bella, I was beholden to Alice.

"I'm going to go pack for you, Edward. And, yes, Nessie—I brought new nail polish! But your mother will need to help you or you'll get paint on the rug."

The phone in my hand buzzed. Emmett.

"Where are you?" I asked, since we had seen him at the big house.

"Jazz and I decided to take a road trip into the city. We got an idea and now we're headed to get supplies."

"What's the idea?"

"Tonight, the brothers go out. All night. No girls allowed."

"But I just got back from the trip I took with Carlisle. I want to be with my wife and daughter."

Jasper took the line. "Edward, I think you need time away from home to process. A lot's happened since you got back from Oregon."

I looked at Bella and Nessie, who sat on the sofa brushing on nail paint. I was beginning to see how I was ruled by the females in my life. Even Alice and Rosalie told me what to do and expected me to do it. Perhaps a night out with my brothers would help develop this new dominant personality.

"Come on, bro," I heard Emmett chanting.

"You in, Edward?" Jasper asked.

I stared down in disgust at my plate of spaghetti. "I'm in."

**Author's note: Hullo, readers! I've meant to write you back when you reviewed, but the FF reply link was broken and I got too busy/lazy to PM. I'm sorry. Will do better this time around, because I love reading your reactions to the story. Thanks for hanging with me! —Elle**


	9. Chapter 9

I fancied playing house with my little family.

I liked to experience humanity via my daughter's partial human body—as I had with Bella when she was still a girl. When Nessie ate or yawned or hiccuped, I delighted in it. I was _obsessed_ with it.

But my nature makes me a roamer, a traveler, a journeyman. I am a fast driver and an even faster runner. I can be very, very still, but only for so long.

Intuiting this, my oldest brother's extraordinary insight told him that I needed a getaway—especially since the most recent element to my domestic life had been introduced. Our camping trip would provide me just the right amount of adventure tempered with a beneficial blend of brother bonding.

That's what Jasper was thinking anyway when we left that afternoon for our holiday.

We had driven Emmett's Jeep to Port Angeles and taken the ferry across the Canadian border to Vancouver Island. My brothers had loaded up with camping gear to appear legitimate when we passed through customs. Normally, we would have swum across the sound and avoided all this dragging, but Jasper had packed items he didn't want to get wet.

After parking just inside the Pacific Rim Park Reserve, we had taken off on foot. Jazz chose the location after a consult with Alice; the rainforest was getting uncommonly pleasant weather this week. We had all recently hunted, so we didn't consider local game when selecting our destination.

We hiked through an isolated section of the park. Emmett hauled two large kayaks—one on each shoulder—that we had attached to the top of the Jeep. Jasper was ahead of me, a banjo strapped to his back. I knew for a fact that he carried a fiddle in his backpack.

We looked a bit ridiculous, but it was all in keeping for my laid-back Texan and Appalachian brothers.

"I know the setting is all wrong," I chatted, "but I can't help but imagine that we are a band of bootleggers hiking out to our unlicensed distillery in the woods."

"Dude, it's called a still," Emmett corrected.

_"City boy,"_ Jasper thought.

"I haven't lived in a city for a very long time," I grumbled.

"Maybe so, but you're no backwoods dweller either," Jazz replied.

"Yeah, the setting is wrong. The trees are wrong. That and the fact that we are running at inhuman speeds and I'm carrying two ginormous kayaks on my shoulders. Nice try, though, Edward."

"Well, I may be reaching..."

"Human or vampire, I can't imagine anybody ever mistaking Edward for a rum runner," Jasper commented.

"I guess he drives like a Duke cousin, but that's about the only comparison we could make." Emmett started to sing the theme song to the Dukes of Hazard. "Just a good ol' boy..."

"Love that show," Jasper said under his breath and humming along.

I sneered. "I was brought up better. I ought to be teasing you two ill-bred commoners."

"Peasants," Emmett mocked me in an exaggerated French accent, so that it sounded like _pez-ahntz._

"You mean us brush-hoppers?" Jasper asked. "We'll show you, blueblood, that country boys know how to have a good time."

And the "good ol' boys" lived up to their reputation during that pleasant evening, but our good time was short-lived. Up until the awful phone call that ended it, we talked and teased and competed—almost like human brothers. I could nearly believe that was what we were, and it was even better than pretending to eat a family meal (or spaghetti breakfast, as it were) in my fairytale cottage with Bella and Nessie.

Jasper and I shared a kayak, while Emmett and our gear rode in the other. We had paddled out to a rock cropping in the ocean that made up one of the Broken Group Islands and set up camp in an undesignated area. It was more courteous to break the law this way—no camper wanted to share their island with three vampires.

When we settled, Jazz held up the violin in one hand and banjo in the other, asking me to choose. He and Emmett had specially bought the instruments that morning for our trip. Knowing that Jasper played the banjo quite well, I took the violin, confident that I could make it sound as country as if I had been born and raised in the American South.

He chose a medley of songs to pick out on the banjo—starting with John Denver's "Thank God I'm a Country Boy." Emmett and I joined in on the chorus, and I played the fiddle like a natural, singing about a simple, funny life on a farm. Emmett was especially keen with his "yee-haws," "woo-hoos," and "yes sirs!"

We sang and laughed and acted spectacularly foolish well into the night.

"So," Emmett started during a moment of calm. "I want to know what's going on with Bella. You show her who's boss yesterday?"

I snorted. "I don't know. It's not what you think, Em."

"Oh?"

"It's private, all right?"

"That's not fair. You know all there is to know about the rest of us."

"Really, Emmett, I don't want to know, but it can't be helped. You practically shove it in my face, the way you and Rose want us all to hear you. It's depraved."

He and Rosalie practiced a mild sort of exhibitionism. Romping in public places at public hours. Not that they ever got caught, but the potential for exposure comprised the appeal. (_Hm..._ not unlike Bella's beach trip, I supposed.) Carlisle and Esme would blow their stacks if they knew...but so far, their exploits remained closet.

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it."

"That's exactly what I told him," Jasper interjected. "He's an arrogant SOB, isn't he? Especially when it comes to anything carnal."

" 'Carnal?' Like erotic? So, then it was sexual...?" Emmett asked, bemused. "I thought you...punished...her... _Oh!_ It _is_ sexual! Edward, you blessed bastard!" He punched my arm.

"Wouldn't you know it," Jasper said with mock defeat. "Of the four Cullen men, Edward's the winner."

"That makes you the winner _and_ a loser!" Emmett crowed, delighted with his new information.

"I'm not willing to discuss this," I insisted. "Bella would detest it—"

"Come on! We're brothers! We share this stuff. You know the girls do. Right, Edward?"

"Well—"

"It _is_ only fair," Jasper reasoned.

Emmett thumbed in Jasper's direction. "Yeah, you know that Alice gets this queen to dress up for the action."

"Get out, Emmett, I don't wear dresses to bed," he retorted. "But even if Alice wanted me to dress like a ballerina I would. Thank heavens she prefers masculine characters and costumes."

"Yeah, right," Em argued. "She told Rosalie that her favorite was Robin Hood. Alice said your butt looked really cute in the tights."

"And Rosalie told you!" Jasper was only slightly offended; he was mostly flattered to hear the compliment.

"Well, yeah, she told me. But I'm wondering... Maid Marion give good headway?"

"Emmett!" I said with disgust.

Jasper wasn't scandalized in the least, although he wouldn't talk about his lady in such a vulgar manner. In fact, he looked quite cavalier. "Marion can do all manner of things when Robin peels off his tights," he revealed.

Before I could rearrange my features, the others noticed my face contorted prudishly. Jasper detected several emotions, including sadness and longing together with my usual distaste.

"Oh, Edward," he said with sincere sympathy. From his reaction, it was obvious that I was indeed missing out on a sensational experience.

Apparently it showed on my face, too, because Emmett knew exactly what was wrong.

He looked at me, astonished. "Bella's never smoked your—"

"No!" I roared. The surrounding frogs abruptly cut off their singing.

"Not even _before_ the wedding?" Emmett asked. He was dumbstruck. I glared back at him.

"Did you," Jasper started, "for Bella—you know—visit 'the land of broken dreams?' "

I swallowed, mortified by the turn in conversation. "Yes."

"All right. Well, you need to talk to her about it. See if she wants to reciprocate."

"I don't think she wants to," I said weakly.

"Don't worry about it, man. You stand over her with your whip, grab her by the hair, and you make her take it," Emmett suggested—he was being sincerely helpful, too—or so he thought. Like he would ever be so bold with Rosalie...

"I am still a gentleman," I tried to assert. It came out sounding more like I was trying to convince myself.

Through my dismay, Jasper sent me a shot of hope. "Perhaps you don't want to be that much of a caveman, but fellatio may very well become part of your play with Bella. You will want to work up to some things, and although this is a pretty basic accomplishment, it's new for you two, so it will fit nicely with your acquired lifestyle."

My brothers shared their ideas and testimonials, and I ended up with a lot to look forward to. I was grateful that they didn't try to tease—not even Emmett—although I would have bet my life on it. They surprised and delighted me. The situation didn't sound normal to them, but they responded with compassion and understanding.

It actually felt good to unload.

And then the call came in the early morning hours.

Emmett was boasting about winning the last waterfall-jumping competition, but Jasper was only half-listening to him. His focus was on my phone conversation...but more so my feelings.

"Edward." Carlisle all at once sounded tired, cross, exasperated, and confused.

I unconsciously submitted to my reflex reaction: rapidly replaying recent days and weeks, critiquing my behavior of late and asking myself, _"What did I do?"_

I had kicked Carlisle's bumper two weeks ago when I was angry at Rosalie, but she felt sorry about it and helped me straighten it out. Did she tell on me? No, that wasn't it. Even if she did, I doubted Carlisle would bother calling to yell at me about that. I came to this conclusion within the space of three seconds.

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly.

_It_ was Bella. She had gotten herself involved in some mischief. My breathing grew heavy as Carlisle tried to explain the misbehavior, but I could hardly concentrate. The noise of the ocean waves sounded louder in my ears.

"Do you want to handle this when you return from your trip?" he was asking me. "I thought you dealt with her yesterday, Edward."

"Well, I tried, but then it turned into...the other thing..."

"I see. Perhaps I should take over for now—"

"Just wait a second, Carlisle! Don't—" I struggled for words. "Don't do that. I just—I don't understand," I mourned.

"It's normal, Edward. We've all had our quirks when we were new," he consoled.

Jasper felt my anger flare. "It's not a quirk, Carlisle," I objected. "It's an obscene fascination. She did it on purpose. She wants you to punish her. She likes it."

"I think I can teach her not to like it," he vowed.

"No!" I shouted. Then Jasper understood that my anger was directed at Carlisle.

"Edward, wait," he said, firmly calling my attention away from my father on the phone. "Did you tell Bella what I told you to tell her?"

Emmett was all ears then.

I shook my head. "I didn't get to, no."

"Give me the phone," he demanded.

I listened, shocked into utter stillness, as Jasper explained to Carlisle that he would need to wait until I was home to punish Bella... Because before he did, he was going to punish me.

I stared at the blue-black, starlit sky, not breathing, while Jazz finished making the deal.

"Damn," Emmett breathed, feeling distressed for me. "Edward?" he asked. He called my name four more times before I could finally meet his eyes. I couldn't speak because I didn't have any air left.

"Edward. What did Bella do?"

I took a deep breath.

**Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen, please keep your seats. We will return to our romantic, masochistic couple's erotic experimentation after a short interruption. Thank you for your patience and understanding.**


	10. Chapter 10

With a fresh intake of air, I intended to answer Emmett's question. Instead of releasing a reply, however, I was overcome with laughter. And even for the life of me, I couldn't stop it.

Jasper and Em regarded me with apprehension as I clutched an arm around my waist, bent over, and laughed so hard I couldn't keep my eyes open. Gasping for breath, I tried to contain myself to answer the question, but my body wouldn't allow it. The situation was so absurd.

"It's not madness," Jasper mumbled, "it's genuine humor...with a whit of helplessness."

"What did she do?" Emmett asked with amused interest and a slight smile.

"She took something," Jasper revealed with a smirk.

The big guy checked in with me and I tried to nod. "Like she stole something? What'd she take?" he inquired.

Jasper answered for me. "You know that leather strop that Carlisle keeps in his study?"

"Uh, yeah. We're well-acquainted." This strap—a veritable artifact—was legend in the Cullen house. "She stole it?"

"She's hidden it," Jasper clarified.

"No way! Why?"

"I don't know for sure. I think she's trying to send a message to Edward." His eyes temporarily shifted to mine. "It seems Bella talked to Rosalie after we left and got the story about what happens when you get summoned to Carlisle's study. Later she snuck in and removed the strap. Carlisle found it missing when he caught Bella's scent in his office."

"Wait. Is Rosalie in trouble, too?" Emmett wanted to know.

Having finally composed myself, I took over for Jasper, my voice gruff. "No, just me. I'm in trouble." I barely completed those two sentences before the hysterics overwhelmed me again.

After all the trauma we had experienced during the last couple of years, why indeed would she choose to create such a fuss? And over something so foolish! Oh, yes. I believe Jasper had pointed out that my Bella was addicted to trouble.

"I need to get him home," Jasper said. While I guffawed, he and Emmett worked out a departure plan. Em would take our bags back to the Jeep and make the drive home, and Jasper would escort me back to my naughty wife and irritated father. After things settled down, we would return to formally leave Canada.

When my fit concluded, I didn't waste any time throwing Emmett my phone and wallet and jumping into the ocean.

"What's his hurry?" I heard Emmett question. I watched Jasper shrug at him before diving in after me.

_"Slow it down, boy,"_ Jasper thought.

Not only was I fastest runner, but I could out-swim the others in my family as well. I let Jazz catch up before I set a brisk pace for our aquatic journey. I was driven by a singular mission: my Bella was in trouble and I needed to get to her.

The sun was beginning to rise as we approached the coast and I watched Jasper's skin shimmer in the new morning light, which filtered down through the water, highlighting the remarkable pattern created by his battle scars. He was working diligently to numb my senses, which would have annoyed me had I not felt so...well..._numb_.

I swam to the tip of the bay and came to land, avoiding Quileute territory. Why, I didn't know, since the treaty was no longer valid. Perhaps I was operating out of habit. If I allowed myself to anticipate what was coming, regardless of the extra help in the "feeling" department, I may have been unable to move—either from mirth or panic.

"You okay, little brother?" Jasper checked, taking off in a sprint after me.

"I'm fine," I directed over my shoulder. "Just want to get home."

I had a plan—a bargain to negotiate—but I didn't want to discuss it with Jasper. This was my time to come through for Bella without any interference from my overly helpful officer brother and psychic sister. I could handle this by myself.

"We'll be there soon enough," he reassured, dazing me with another shot of tranquilizer.

Alice met us on our side of the Calawah River. She tried in vain to control the images of the future that played like a rapid slideshow in her head. I was cringing as a result.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she pleaded.

Jasper kissed Alice hastily. "Honey, please tell me you didn't know about this."

"Not before you left for your trip, no."

Jasper's jaw relaxed as he unclenched his teeth. He kept us both calm as Alice proceeded to disclose the details of the story.

"When Rosalie eagerly told Bella about _the implement..._ well, that's when I saw what Bella was going to do. I tried to talk her out of it. But I would _not_ follow her into Carlisle's study. I didn't want to be in trouble, too."

"But you didn't tell on her?" Jasper wanted to know.

"No. I knew what would happen. Later Carlisle caught her trail throughout the room. She had opened drawers and cupboards, climbed shelves, and searched his wardrobe; he recognized that she was following the scent of leather. That's when he realized the strap was missing. He confronted her about its disappearance and she admitted to taking it—" here Alice's voice climbed to a high-pitched squeak—"but Bella refuses to give it back!"

No one had ever dared to challenge Carlisle like that. Why did my Bella always want to risk her life?

"Where's Nessie?" I asked.

"With Esme at the cottage." Alice held on to Jasper's waist and pushed her forehead into his chest, letting him hold her. "OMG, Edward, I'm worried. I mean, Bella didn't do what we told her to do before, and now... We can't lock her up anymore."

"Well, now, that didn't work when she was human," Jasper reminded. "Don't worry, darlin'. Bella's smart, and she's a good girl. She just needs some guidance. Carlisle will know what to do."

"I know," she cried, "but it's not fair to Edward!"

The muscles in my legs tightened involuntarily. Other than the expected—indulgent—anxiety, I was doing well. I was "in the zone," as Emmett would say, having resorted back to my default mode, in which Bella needed me to rescue her—Bella needed my protection. I would do whatever it took; I could do that.

When we arrived at the house, Carlisle was in my old room with Bella, delivering a serious talking-to that had apparently been in progress for a long while.

Poor Bella. As kind as Carlisle was, I knew he intimidated her. She was stoically enduring the lecture, however, and not wavering. Bella was quite the activist. I had to admit, I admired her bravery.

"I don't want to give it back," she argued, her arms crossed over her chest. "What if you tried to hit my daughter with that thing?"

I inwardly groaned, making my way up the stairs.

"It hurts me that you think I would do that," my father countered.

"You hit _your_ children with it," Bella accused.

Carlisle sighed. They sat side by side on the bed. He ducked his head to meet her lowered eyes.

"I'll spare you that explanation again, since I don't like to repeat myself. You've made your opinion on corporal punishment quite clear. And I hear you. I do. To hit a small child with a belt—or any other implement for that matter—I find revolting. And Renesmee is your daughter, not mine. I would never overstep those boundaries. All you needed to do, my girl, was come to me and tell me your concern, and I could have relieved those worries.

"But aside from your very steadfast sentiments, you intruded on _my_ personal space and stole _my_ property. That strap is a personal possession, Bella—historical, in a way, for me _and_ your husband. I acquired it during our first year together, and it's been a part of my relationship with Edward ever since. You ought to have talked to him about it.

"I must say, young lady, the action itself is shocking, but that you continue to keep it hidden from me is extremely disappointing."

She raised her chin and looked at him directly. "Then what are you waiting for? Let me have it. I promise I won't struggle."

Carlisle was taken aback, and he thought before he spoke. "You do not always know what is best, Bella. It's time you learn that. There are rules and consequences thoughtfully set to keep us safe and at peace with one another. It is not up to you to decide what is right and what is wrong for this family. You are always welcome to disagree and participate in an adult discussion about it, but I will not allow you to make those decisions."

Standing in the hallway in front of the closed door, I shuffled my feet. "Edward's here," Bella announced bluntly, changing the subject.

"I know." Carlisle clapped both hands on top of his thighs as he stood up, clearly agitated.

"Hold up!" Bella demanded. "Is that what you were waiting for? For Edward to come home? Why? It's not any of his business."

"Edward, I'll see you in my study," he announced, ignoring Bella's question. "You may stay here, young lady, until I come fetch you."

When he opened the door to meet me I caught a glimpse of my wife, discomposed, bottom lip caught in her teeth. I wanted to slide past my father, tear into the bedroom, and capture her up in my arms...but I wasn't at all sure if I would embrace Bella...or shake her.

Carlisle saved me that decision, fortunately, slipping through the doorway and clicking it shut. He refused to provide time for our awkward greetings.

Once by my side, he crooked an arm around my neck and captured me in a playful headlock. I saw it all coming, of course, but I allowed it, hoping a lighthearted moment would relieve my tension. Carlisle hoped it, too. Tackling my head to his chest, he crisply rubbed my hair until I was laughing.

"Enough, enough," I begged.

Despite his teasing, Carlisle was unhappy.

"I'm extremely displeased," he confirmed verbally when we reached his office. Needing a more physical release for all his frustration, he fiercely slapped his left palm with the other hand. He pressed his lips tightly together, widened his eyes, and pointed in the direction of my old room where my stubborn Bella waited.

He didn't need to say more.

In Carlisle's head, I saw that he wasn't too keen on Jasper's plan. But I didn't go so far as to presume he would subscribe to mine. As much as he loathed the coven leader's responsibility to punish, he was eager to get his hands on Bella, I could tell. That frightened me and bolstered my resolve to remove Bella from danger. But he didn't want to involve me.

"She's your mate, Edward, and for that reason I gave you the option of determining what happens to her when we spoke on the phone. But having spent the last hour with Bella, I think it would be preferable if you leave her to me. Now we can talk, and I will do my best to listen and consider your suggestions. But she chose to disobey me, and for that, I think I'm obligated to follow through."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he seemed to know what I was going to say and he held up a hand to mean he wasn't finished.

"You know the consequences for defiance, and she continues to defy me with no contrition. If I carry out the punishment, that's exactly what she'll get. And now you and your brother are insisting that I deliver the same to you—"

"Carlisle, wait," I whispered. "That's what she wants. You heard her goading you. I want to propose a slightly different course of action. See, Jasper wants to prevent this risky behavior from reoccurring. If Bella watches me suffer for her misconduct, the favorable outcome would be that she repents and chooses to behave herself from now on. But why should you endure the ordeal of punishing us both? Give me the consequence. I'll deal with Bella later."

Carlisle was disturbed. "I don't fancy the idea of hurting you when you are innocent. That wouldn't be discipline, it would be...persecution. You're asking too much of me."

"I'm asking permission to take Bella's punishment for her," I restated. Appealing to my father's Christian sense of mercy was often a successful means of persuasion.

He stroked his chin, considering the plan. "I understand that you want to sacrifice for your wife, Edward, but I'm concerned about what will happen if you keep rescuing and enabling her."

"Oh, she'll suffer equally when she sees me take the lashing for her. And I will provide any further correction myself. I've taken responsibility for her discipline already," I boasted falsely. I was realizing that I hadn't given Bella anything other than painful foreplay.

My conscience didn't buy it—nor did Carlisle.

"What you and Bella do in bed—or in the car or...wherever—is not any of my concern. But I would not say _that_ is the same as discipline."

"Trust me, Carlisle. She'll be getting hers. Jasper guaranteed that she wouldn't risk disobedience after watching me get whipped."

"I suppose it is punishment enough...to watch your beloved take a thrashing meant for you... I certainly feel as though _I'm_ being punished," he exclaimed, shaking his head. "However, I agree with you and Jasper that it might be our best chance to deter any future misbehavior. And this is what you want?"

I swallowed and nodded.

He was impressed with me. Hell, _I_ was impressed with me, walking into my father's office and demanding to be whipped for a crime I didn't commit.

He reluctantly acquiesced. "Fine. But, Edward?"

"Hm."

"Just because you negotiated this arrangement..." He finished in his head. _"You will not be in control of the punishment,"_ he warned me...like he always did. _"I'm in charge. And although it's not your wrongdoing, I will not go easy on you."_

"I know," I promised.

"Then I shall return," he promised back.

**Author's note: Hi there. Sorry for the delay—those of you looking forward to this. Apparently I needed to find my "happy place" before I could beat the hell out of Edward. (It's so much easier to hurt Bella!) Think I'm ready now.**

**If you like the sexy stuff better, please stay tuned; I promise we'll get back to it.**

**As always, thanks for sharing your reactions. -E.**


	11. Chapter 11

Carlisle reentered his study a moment later with Bella, and he pointed her to the sofa. "Take a seat, please," he directed.

Now that the time was near, my body was reacting to the stress surrounding its doom. The floor of this second-story room had become an unsteady ship's bilge, full of sloshing seawater. I concentrated on my feet and finding solid ground on which to stand. My head swam and my stomach flipped.

"Bella," I greeted as calmly as possible. Then I blew my placid cover when I swallowed loudly.

_"Allow me do the talking for you, son,"_ Carlisle advised silently. _"I've already scolded her enough. I think we ought to proceed to the objective."_ Then aloud he said, "Edward, I need your belt, please, son."

Bella jerked her feet up onto the sofa cushions and she scurried herself back into the corner of the couch, her head flashing back and forth between me and my father. She thought, I guessed, that he intended to whip her with my belt and I was going to let him. She licked her upper lip, almost greedily. Oh, that I could see into that head of hers! Her actions exhibited fear, but her expression was more awe and desire than dread.

_"Your belt, Edward,"_ Carlisle repeated silently. He caught my gaze flicker down to his belt buckle. Why was he asking for mine? _"You won't be needing yours to hold up your trousers,"_ he answered, unprompted. I sighed and nodded, unfastening and pulling the strip of leather through the belt loops. Bella gasped at the sound it made.

Corporal punishment with Carlisle was all routine and sadly predictable. He required any clothing from the waist down to be out of the way or removed all together. Not that he wanted to look at my "skinny naked arse all the bloody time" (those were his words, not mine, and, of course, never said aloud). For Carlisle, it was a matter of equality; he didn't want the severity of the punishment to be affected by what we happened to be wearing at the time of correction.

I undid the fly of my jeans as I handed the folded belt to my father.

Bella, having noticed my initial attempt to undress, started to protest. "Wait! What's going on, Carlisle? What did _he_ do? I'm in trouble, not him!"

My father sounded miserable but resolved. "Edward's offered to accept your punishment for you, Bella. The house rules determine that the consequence for this sort of disobedience is a thrashing, normally dealt with the leather strap. Being that the strap is unavailable, we will make do with a belt. Edward's done nothing wrong, but he loves you that much, that he's willing to suffer on your behalf."

_"I feel rather like Pontius Pilate,"_ he was thinking to himself. He noticed my immediate smirk. _"No, Edward, that does not make you Jesus Christ." _I shrugged. Well, I was about to be flogged, if not crucified.

"I don't want this!" Bella exclaimed. "I'm willing to take the beating. Just don't hit him!"

Bella's distress was adding to the heartbreak—mine and Carlisle's.

"You persist in your belligerence with no remorse. Why don't you let Edward take the penalty. During all our decades together, I'm certain there is something he's gotten away with that deserved a whipping."

I snorted. Like Carlisle ever let me get away with anything!

_"Edward, you may lean over the desk or the arm of the sofa. Your choice today."_

That gave me pause. If I chose the sofa, I would be looking at Bella. I wasn't sure I could handle that much emotional exposure. If I bent over the desk, my face would be hidden, and she would be presented the best view of the battering I was about receive in her honor. That would be my preference.

A pathetic sob tore from Bella's throat. "No," she moaned, over and over again while I stood facing the doctor's massive desk. I let my jeans fall down my legs and I lay over the wide, indifferent surface. As my chest struck its cool wood, the quivering in my abdomen swelled into my loins.

"Ahem," Carlisle prompted. He wanted my last layer of clothing tugged down. _Fine._ This wasn't the first time I had taken a punishment in front of another member of the family. Being that it was my wife watching made it almost a non-issue...if it weren't for that bit of comfort and shielding the underwear contributed.

I stood back up and regretfully lowered my Under Armour boxer shorts, which normally allowed for greater range of movement and reduced friction when running, but would unfortunately provide me no protection today.

_This is for Bella,_ I reminded myself, as I presented my vulnerable side to my father. I thought it ironic that the sacrifice I was making for Bella was hurting her anyway. Would she hurt more if she were the one bent over Carlisle's desk? Would she be in more pain than I would when this was finished? Would her agony be greater than my father's? He always seemed to take these strappings the hardest, giving credence to the old maxim, "This hurts me more than it hurts you".Having intimate knowledge of the old man's mind during these sessions validated that statement. I knew that he at least suffered as much as I did — if in a different way.

But this morning he was especially sorrowful taking his traditional position to my left. Nevertheless, he was proud of me.

I took me several decades to willingly bend over for him. I recalled disciplinary action that began with a long persuasive chat and ended with me facedown on the floor and Carlisle's knee lodged in my back while he whaled away. Although my nature resisted submission, I had learned to cooperate, despite that my mind and body still told me to fight. This was a relief, though. I thought it much more dignified to accept the whippings like a man than to be wrestled over his lap and spanked like an unruly schoolboy (although it still happened on occasion).

Now that my wife was watching, I resolved to remain controlled and impassive. Bella was grieving. "Please don't, Carlisle. Please stop..." she murmured again and again.

My head was tilted to the side, and I distracted myself by examining the colored fibers of the plaid flannel shirt covering my arm. I found a safe—empty—space in my head and let my vision blur.

Then the bite of my belt snapped across the top of my backside, and my situation was dreadfully clear again. My mouth opened in a silent protest, which Bella fulfilled vocally for me with her pitiful wail. Despite the pulsing blaze my father had cut into my bare flesh, I was too aware of Bella's movements and pathetic little noises. I could even hear Rosalie downstairs and wished I were with her, enduring the sarcastic harassment, instead of here, bent over naked waiting for my father's thrashing...in front of an audience.

I blinked sporadically, then tightened my eyes for the next stroke. Unable to help my intrusion, I saw in Carlisle's mind as he raised the belt, took a deep breath, held it, and cracked it down, just overlapping the first blow. My body jolted at impact.

Carlisle, as usual, was taking his time, being deliberate with the point of impact and the force of the swing. His careful application was meant, I supposed, to heighten the intensity and anticipation for the condemned—to provoke thought as the pain radiated then faded to a dull throb. For me...it did all that _and_ made me feel extra sorry for myself.

He was missing the strap, and figuring how to make up for its width and bulk, which was lacking in my belt...although I wasn't able to discern the disparate results on my end. He remembered acquiring it in Scotland, where he took me in search of vacant wilderness that would suit for my temperamental newborn year.

The next stroke was coming. I bit down on my shirt collar, but it tore off in my teeth when the belt whacked again. That was three. He was working his way down. The belt was plastering my poor hide with exceptional coverage. Perhaps it wouldn't last much longer. I knew I couldn't keep quiet for too many more...

"Isabella," I heard my father say. "Uncover your eyes. I will not continue until you are watching. Let's get this over with for Edward's sake, please." She lowered her hands, but kept the fingers clamped over her mouth.

Carlisle swung again. I grunted. _"Edward,"_ my father was trying to get my attention. He was concerned that I was trying too hard to be a man and remain stoic. _"Son, I doubt Bella will get the point of this little exercise if you refuse to show _some_ emotion."_ My breath exhaled in a quivering rush, which was meant to be a laugh, but sounded more like gagging. He was absolutely right, and I thought it morbidly funny that I hadn't thought of it first.

I let go, weeping and trying not to pound the desk with my fist. At least the emotional release made it easier to stop myself from reaching back or running away. Bella looked miserable, and her soft crying crescendoed.

The belt came down for the fifth time, harder, just below the midpoint and cutting into the fleshiest part. I cried out. He would end at the tops of my thighs. That meant five more. He whipped me again and my yelling was accented by stuttered breaths. If I was going to make it without standing up and trying to retaliate, I would need to find that empty space again.

In the quiet of this blank territory, it occurred to me that since I had composed a lullaby for Bella, I could score us a soundtrack for important moments such as this. _Honey, remember that time you got me beaten when you defied an almost four-centuries-old coven leader, who also happens to be my sire? _Then she would laugh delightedly at the memory._ Ah, good times..._

An orchestra filled my thoughts, and I heard drums—a lot of drums...and cellos, too, with electric guitars strumming, deep and rhythmic.

Carlisle struck again, and a chorus of ghostly, angry voices chanted in Latin. Drumrolls proceeded the next two blows, my voice joining the choir in my head in their lament. It was coming together rather quickly and I was quite proud of my creation. _We will be moving soon,_ I thought. I wondered if we ought to build a music studio at the next dwelling. _Would Renesmee like that? _I asked myself.

Suddenly I was roused from my private concert when I felt my father directly behind me, using his shoe to push my feet further apart, so that my legs stood wider. I was confused momentarily before I realized that this was the last stroke. It would bite me across both thighs, where my legs met my buttocks.

_Damn it._

He lifted the belt and let it whistle as it divided air, where it came unfolded and wrapped around the tops of my legs. The leather snapped against the back of my scrotum, and I shot up, arching my back, and grabbing my genitals.

"Holy _f_—" _No, I will not say that word again in front of my wife..._ "Carlisle!" I screamed.

"Oh, my God," Bella shouted.

"Edward! Oh, Edward, I'm sorry," my father pleaded, holding me around my middle as I bent and gasped from the pain. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to let go of the end. It slipped. Are you all right?"

I was unable to speak.

"We're finished," Carlisle asserted. "No more." He rubbed my back while I tried to settle down. I pulled at my hair, almost wishing he would take another swipe at me with the belt just to feel pain anywhere else to take the focus off that nasty sting.

"You may get dressed when you're able," he said gently after I calmed.

Bella, not waiting for permission, came to my other side and cried into my shoulder while I replaced my underwear and jeans. Carlisle tried to hand me back my belt, but I wouldn't accept it. Really, I wanted to be alone so I could take it all off again.

Abruptly, Bella lifted her head, rubbed her face, and glared at my father. She shook as she spoke.

"My turn," she breathed, making no sound, so I wasn't sure what she was asking for. After a couple of gulps, she tried again. "It's my turn now."

"No, Bella," I moaned.

Carlisle shook his head. "Edward's taken your punishment. There's nothing left for me to give."

"I'm not giving the strap back," she cheeked.

"Bella—" I started to complain, but I really wasn't physically or emotionally ready to have this argument.

"I want the same treatment he got," Bella demanded, looking past me and at Carlisle, her jaw set.

"No," he said simply, relieving my fear.

Bella huffed and abruptly fled the room, slamming the door leaving me alone to attend to my smarting behind.

I turned to my father. "Thank you for keeping this matter between us. I'll talk to her and bring it back." By _it_, I meant the strap. Alice knew where it was. I took a slow step toward the door.

"No, Edward. You will remain here until you recuperate."

"But I need to go to Bella."

"She can't have you back just yet. Give her time to think about what happened."

I struggled to find an argument. "I need to take care of her so I can go back north with Jasper." I gave a derisive laugh. "I'm a rogue tourist in British Columbia. We need to go back through customs or the authorities will think I was mauled by a grizzly."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "You're in no condition for travel and there is plenty of time for that. Lie down." He pushed on me until I backed up to the sofa, and then he looked down at my crotch. "Are you all right.? I'm terribly sorry for that. Do you want me to take a look?"

"No, thank you," I said coolly.

"Then make yourself comfortable. You know I didn't mean for that to happen..." he looked at me, afflicted.

"I should hope not." I held the injured package delicately. It was against my nature to be too accommodating after the hell he had cast on my body...well, that and that he wouldn't let me go to my Bella.

For dramatic effect, I wanted to fling my petulant self facedown on the sofa. But instead, taking care not to further abuse the violated parts of my body—front and back—I carefully lowered myself down sideways and buried my face into a throw pillow.

"I'll be back to check on you," he told me, walking to the door. I think he wanted to go cry in private. I know that's what I wanted to do. When he opened it, he almost ran right over Bella's next act of defiance.

There on the other side of the door, in a hasty pile, was the strap—or what was formerly the strap. It was shredded to pieces and thrown on the floor.

My father sighed wearily.


	12. Chapter 12

"That's what she wants!" I screamed in protest, having stood up hurriedly from my position on the couch, which was supposed to be my port for recovery. My voice overplayed its desperation and came out sounding irascible instead.

"I know," Carlisle responded quietly, ignoring my tone. "She's made that quite plain."

After a moment of processing recent events, he had fetched a wastebasket from under the desk. Moving back out to the hallway, he scooped up the shredded remains of leather with his hands, disposing of the ninety-year-old strap.

While his body tidied up, his mind drafted a preview of what was to come.

I watched with horror as he imagined having Bella returned to the study. He would sit on the sofa, the penitent standing before him. Then he would provide a quick explanation of what he was about to do and why. Progressing through the sequence, he planned to update me with his thoughts. _"Now I'm going to pull these down. Then I will lay her over my lap."_ He was reminding himself that this would be her first time with him. He would give her a spanking with his hand for starters, and then he'd ask for my belt. Six of the best, was his conclusion. That would make us even, he thought. I could stay to hold her hands.

_Keep dreaming, Carlisle!_ There was no way in hell that I would cooperate with his decision to punish her. Did she deserve it? Yes, I suppose she did. But I would grab her and run before I let that scenario play out.

Before I resorted to drastic measures, however, I would first try talking him out of it. The last thing I wanted would be for Carlisle to call a family conference about this, which would happen if I resisted. Bella and I might be asked to leave temporarily. Of course, they would insist on keeping custody of Renesmee, and that was not happening. Over. My. Dead. Body.

And so I had started to yell.

"Carlisle, no! She doesn't _really_ want it..." I cast about for a reason, "because she doesn't know _what_ she wants."

"Do _you_ know what she wants?" he asked for clarification.

I deflated. If I were able to read Isabella Cullen's mystifying mind, I would have possessed the keys to the universe by now.

"I have no idea," I admitted.

Two short raps sounded on the open door. Carlisle nodded at Jasper, who then entered and approached me.

"Sorry to interrupt. Alice told me what Bella was going to do, and...well, I feel somewhat responsible. Are you all right, Edward?"

"Well enough." I didn't attempt to raise my head, which was hanging. He cringed, pitying me the unexpected damage dealt between my legs. How undignified I felt, as I once again marveled that Alice seemed to have no verbal censor.

Jasper waited a moment to see if I would elaborate. Embarrassed for me, he nodded sharply and decided to move on. "I have information—I thought it important to share." My head snapped up when I discerned his thought.

"Go ahead," Carlisle allowed.

Even though he knew I saw what he was going to say, Jasper made sure he had our full attention. "I was close to her when it happened. Bella felt sad and desperate. I don't think she was _trying_ to be obstinate...but she was traumatized by the experience. She's grieving. I wanted you two to know that. It's not a...you know, it's not because she's excited."

"I understand," Carlisle assured him. "Thank you for telling us. That's very helpful." He held his chin in his hand and stroked the side of his face with his thumb thoughtfully.

"She didn't even run away," Jasper continued. "She was actually out in the yard with Jake and Nessie. She's waiting, and she's nervous."

Oh, my poor Bella! Sad, desperate, nervous, traumatized..._grieving_. Couldn't I do anything right?

She _was_ damned. I had ruined her. I created her...turning her into this—this—_bad girl. _She had been such a good girl until I chose to stalk her. Surveying the course of our relationship, I saw that I had corrupted that brown-eyed, sweet-smelling, quiet young woman, turning her first into my victim. From there she changed systematically, if unpredictably—to liar, stunt woman, monster, wanton, and rebel—all within the confines of two years. And possibly not in that order.

I needed to see her.

I stepped to the window and looked down to find a giant red wolf. Jacob leaned to his left until his massive body lost its balance and he crash-landed on his side, shaking the earth. Then he rolled the rest of the way onto his back and wriggled, legs in the air, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Nessie was by his side, giggling.

I could make her laugh like that, too. Last week we played in the river. I was a crocodile and she rode on my back while I crawled through the watery banks. "Where are we, Daddy?" she had asked, prepared for imaginary fun. "The jungle?" "Mm-hmm. Brazil," I had replied. _Where you were conceived, little girl._ I didn't say that last bit aloud, knowing that she would ask what I meant. I was hoping one of the girls would get to give "the talk" before I had to. Bella would be much better at it than I. More natural, I thought.

Bella. I didn't see her outside. Listening carefully, I found her downstairs talking to Rosalie, who was providing consolation. That was out of the ordinary.

"...Alice is keeping away from me," I heard Bella say. "Oh, Rose. He probably hates me."

_What? Who would hate Bella? Did she mean me?_

My sister, who had been rubbing Bella's arm, turned firm. "Now hold it right there. Bella, do you really think Edward would have gone through all that if he hated you? Remember, we are talking about _Edward_ here. Of course, he wanted to do it. He loves to suffer—it's his thing. It's what he does best."

Bella groaned. "He loves you," Rosalie insisted. "You and suffering go together like...like chrome and leather." She assumed Bella would understand the motorcycle metaphor. "And he loves it! He can't get enough of it. That's why he took the beating for you."

Carlisle interrupted my surveillance. "I'm not going to touch her." He looked pleased with his resolve. Jasper had let him off the hook.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Good. Thank you."

"She's yours," he explained. "You handle it the way you see best.

"Perhaps you ought to ignore her when she behaves badly—give her the silent treatment," Jasper suggested.

I shook my head. "I ignored her for six awful months. I can't do that again."

"Well, then. It's up to you..." Carlisle muttered, unexpectedly reminded of something. Jasper and I detected his melancholy reminiscence, tinged with humiliation. He was remembering when Esme was first changed.

Back then, he and I faced a similar problem. I hadn't thought of it before, but it was in fact terribly familiar. Esme, with her new speed, strength, and stealth, acquired a chronic addiction to _lifting_ things. I don't mean to say that she lifted things over her head, but rather that she took things...things that were not hers.

She stole. Habitually. My mother was a first-rate thief.

She was always very sorry, and Carlisle would comfort her and sigh, and I would return the contraband or surreptitiously pay for it. After all, it was nothing like those horrific accidents when she slipped and murdered a human. This was annoying, but sort of funny, too. One evening she returned home with a 30-foot wooden sailboat.

Esme didn't know why she did it. For her, it was a compulsion she couldn't deny—a thrill knowing that she could get away with it. But then she would cry and confess, and poor Carlisle didn't know what to do to make her feel better.

I had not seen this memory before, and I was transfixed as it played out in my father's mind.

He remembered when Esme confronted him about her thievery and asked to be punished for it. She had been quite adamant since he kept refusing her. (Esme's human husband had been violently abusive, and Carlisle, feeling responsible for the young woman's new criminal condition, was disgusted by the idea of harming her in any way.) But she knew he physically punished me when I transgressed, and she used that to back her argument. In 1921, the roles of our family were indistinct. Esme was his mate, but for societal purposes, she was my sister, and Carlisle was our guardian. Therefore, she and I were equals. She deserved equal treatment, and she demanded to be punished the same.

Much like Bella did.

Twice it happened. And it was dreadful. Both Carlisle and I winced at the memory. Esme finally outgrew her bad habit, and she eventually became a delightful and upstanding member of our family.

If Bella followed the same pattern, she would recover. Carlisle said before that we all had our newborn quirks. But then again, Bella's obsession was just getting started; I was afraid I was in for the long haul.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm still in trouble?" I moaned.

"You never were in trouble," Carlisle affirmed. "I will say, however, that—although I make it a point not to involve myself in other couples' intimate affairs—if your new..._recreation_ with Bella results in this sort of provocation, we may need to make some new rules."

"It won't," I replied testily. I looked to Jasper. "What did I do wrong?"

He chuckled. "You didn't do anything wrong. She's young, Edward. You need to talk, that's all. She needs to feel comfortable enough to ask you for what she wants." He paused. "She's coming up," he said and considerately disappeared.

Bella had wondered to Rosalie what was keeping us. Esme had come in from outside and said she would accompany her up the stairs. When they entered the study, my mother, wearing a sad smile, had hooked her arm around Bella's elbow for support.

I felt relieved at the sight of her. My Bella was back and safe, and the situation seemed lighter suddenly.

Nothing was said for a long moment, and Bella studied us.

"You're not going to do anything, are you?" she asked Carlisle.

After a delay, he answered her. "No." Then he smiled brightly. "Not that it wasn't a brilliant plan, though."

My happy feelings drained suddenly and before it registered that my mouth was open, I was shouting at my wife. "Damn it, woman! I just took a beating for you, and you—you—it was all in vain!"

My mother glared at me, and I hung my head, ashamed. I realized then that the initial lightness I had felt was the after-effect of Jasper. Now that he was gone, I was experiencing severe withdrawal. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit stressed," I spoke to my shoes.

My outburst made Carlisle and Esme uncomfortable. Bella started to cry. My parents turned ridiculously soft when contending with tears.

Carlisle shushed her, patting her hand. "It's all right, poppet." He looked at Esme, who still held Bella, while he spoke. "Listen, Bella. I think we ought to leave you and Edward to work this out between the two of you."

"Aren't you mad at me?" she asked him, shuddering.

He shook his head. "Really, I'm surprised that strap didn't wear out long ago." He winked at me.

Bella looked pained. "But—but he—he's my husband... I don't want him to punish me! That sets a bad precedent. I would rather you—"

"Oh. Of course. Well, give us time and we can come up with an appropriate consequence," Carlisle offered.

"That's not necessary," I mumbled in a rush.

My mother and Bella admonished me at once.

"Stop trying to rescue her!"

"Stop trying to rescue me!"

I pressed my lips together.

Carlisle awkwardly jingled the coins in his pocket. "Esme," he called. He wrapped an arm around her waist and fluidly turned her toward the door. "We'll leave you two for a private moment. You may use the room to do what you need to do. Take as long as necessary." They started to glide out, but Carlisle paused spontaneously. "And, Bella? Be sure to mind the, er"—his eyes pointed to my crotch—"injured areas."

"Dad!" I complained.

_"Sorry, son. Couldn't help myself. I would rather prefer you didn't use my study for that." _He was laughing on the inside.

I scowled at him predictably. "We are not going to have sex in here," I grumbled under my breath. The women looked at me, confused. I certainly was on a roll today, making all of uncomfortable no matter what I said.

And then we were alone. Or as alone as a couple could be in my family's house.

Bella stared at me and frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." My mouth twisted of its own accord. I was about to demand an explanation, but before I could will the words together, she interrupted.

"Are you going to hurt me?" she blurted out, her eyes squeezed shut.

"What? No!" I was at her side, holding her face in my hands. "No, no. Never. I wouldn't. I've been up here trying to figure out how to escape with you and Ness so you wouldn't be hurt." My thumbs rhythmically smoothed over her cheekbones until she finally opened her eyelids.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"It's my pleasure, Bella," I replied, unable to inhibit my mockery. "Remember what Rosalie said. Pain is my hobby...my passion...my dream..."

This uncorked a fresh tide of sobbing.

I struggled to apologize. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was hoping for a laugh. Sarcasm doesn't become me. My mother's downstairs right now thinking she had broken me of that habit. Yes, Esme, I know you're listening." That last bit finally earned a small chuckle from my weepy mate. Esme and Carlisle sheepishly left to go out in the yard with Jake and Renesmee.

"Why, Bella?" I needed to know.

She looked so miserable. "Which part?"

"You choose," I offered, gentlemanlike.

"All right. When I destroyed the strap... I don't know how to explain."

"Try," I urged kindly.

She turned determined. "We were finally equals, Edward, you and me. Finally I'm worthy of your love and then you have to go and be the hero again!"

"What was I supposed to do? Stand aside and let you be—"

"Yes! Because I watched you being punished for me, and all I could think to do was fix it and make us equal again." She grimaced. "My plan didn't work out so well..."

"And now you know how Emmett feels most of the time." I smiled. Yet again, my humor was unappreciated. "You know, because Rose is onto him all the time…"

When she completed the dramatic rolling of her eyes, Bella continued. "Anyway, I wanted to do something to make him so angry that he would punish me the same as you. That would make me worthy of you. That would make me acceptable to be loved."

"That's completely absurd," I argued. "Rose already told you: I did it because I love you. How could you doubt that? You are supposed to thank me not complain about it. Didn't you ever read _Tom Sawyer_?"

She pushed past me and fled the room, leaving me standing alone with my palm flat against my forehead.

I had fouled up...again.

I could hear Bella going to pieces in my old bedroom on the third story. _How do I repair this?_ I asked myself.

It seemed that the broken pieces of our psyches so often rubbed against each other, causing hurt and misunderstanding. The love was there, the passion, the respect, the consideration...surely we could overcome these differences and it wouldn't be so hard anymore. It was our destiny to be together—heaven knew we couldn't live without the other—was it also our destiny to clash?

_"Edward."_ Alice was back, trying to get my attention from the front porch. "_Bella's assuming all the untrue things about you and her. Prove her wrong. You know what to do."_

_Hmm. Well said, Alice._ But did I know what to do? Perhaps I had been assuming all the wrong things, too. Damned? Surely not. If I seriously studied what we had been through and what we had now... I was _damned_ lucky.

I considered that for a moment, and then I thought to do the only thing I really knew how to do well.

I ran down the stairs and opened the piano. Easing myself onto the bench, I mentally shuffled through my options—hundreds of thousands of memorized songs—eventually selecting the piece that said what I wanted to say.

The whole family would hear the personal message, but that's how we did things here. It was the Cullen way.

So I began to play. Then I sang along, trying my best to sound humble, which was shockingly difficult to do.

"I don't get many things right the first time—" From her room, Rosalie snorted. "In fact I am told that a lot. Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls, brought me here..."

I listened for Bella. Her sniffing abated. And I sang again.

_And where was I before the day  
><em>_that I first saw your lovely face?  
><em>_Now I see it  
><em>_everyday._

_What if I'd  
><em>_been born  
><em>_fifty years before you  
><em>_in house  
><em>_on a street  
><em>_where you lived.  
><em>_Maybe I'd be outside  
><em>_as you passed on your bike.  
><em>_Would I know?_

_I love you more than I have  
><em>_ever found a way to say  
><em>_to you._

_And I know  
><em>_that I am,  
><em>_I am,  
><em>_I am  
><em>_the luckiest._

_Next door,  
><em>_there's an old man,  
><em>_who lived to his nineties  
><em>_then one day  
><em>_passed away  
><em>_in his sleep.  
><em>_And his wife,  
><em>_she stayed for a couple of days  
><em>_and passed away._

_I'm sorry I know that's a  
><em>_strange way to tell you  
><em>_that I know  
><em>_we belong._

_That I know  
><em>_that I am,  
><em>_I am,  
><em>_I am  
><em>_the luckiest._

It had worked. During the song, Bella had come down and sat on the floor by my leg, halfway under the piano. She propped her elbows on her knees and hung her head. When I finished I stood and pulled her up with me, keeping hold of her hands.

"You are not my equal, Mrs. Cullen," I pledged. "You are a dozen times more my superior."

She shook her head—her eyes unyielding.

"I don't care if I'm putting you on a fearfully high pedestal. I will remain forever faithful and adoring at its base, so that I can catch you when you fall. Because that's my job, and no one will divest me of it."

I was prepared to further explain how worthy she was—how better, more beautiful and smart and good—But then she kissed me. Our lips met, gentle and open. Until Bella pulled away shyly.

"You play so beautifully," she whispered.

"It's only my second favorite thing to play." I smirked.

"Oh? What's your first favorite?"

"You," I said wickedly. She backed away to glower at me, teasing me with her eyes. Then, without thinking, I hooked my fingers into the crotch of her yoga pants.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, coming up almost off the floor.

Huh. When I moved my arm, she moved, too. Well, that was interesting. Bella had a handle.

She hissed at me furiously. "Edward Cullen, you let me go right now! I'm going to tell on you to your mother!"

I released instantly. "Please don't," I pouted. "Haven't I endured enough?"

Bella bit her lip. "Do you want to play now?" she asked.

"Uh... I don't think I can. I'm still in pain." My monster objected. It rather liked the ache. I did, too, if I were being honest; it was a battle wound earned fighting for my lady.

"Oh, yes. Well, maybe I can kiss it all better." She glanced at me sidelong and batted her eyelashes.

_Really!_ I didn't even ask first. However, I felt it necessary to play hard to get before I laid it all out for her.

"Now if I let you do that, do you think I'm helping you learn your lesson?"

She laughed. "You sound like your father."

Her accusation caused a rewarding surge of bliss to simmer inside my head. But I affected a stern face.

"That's it, Isabella. Now you're going to get it." Then I lunged.

* * *

><p>"<em>The Luckiest" lyrics by Benjamin Scott Folds.<em>

**Author's apology: All right. Now you can let me have it (*cringing*). I know this didn't go the way we thought it would. And I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed. Two things before you blast me: (1) it's my birthday tomorrow, and (2) if you're nice, I might consider writing an alternate chapter 12 for you. Otherwise, remain calm and wait to let this play out. Thanks for reading! -E.**


	13. Chapter 13

I stayed on the piano bench and held a restless Bella in my lap, while she twisted her arms around my neck and ground her hips into my erection. Lips pressed to skin and mouths, tongues tasted teeth and lips, and fingers randomly pinched and sought affection in the other's hair.

When the urgent passion finally faded, I tucked her head under my chin and rocked slightly. "My stupid lamb," I murmured in Bella's hair. She pulled away and met my gaze with her own mischievous glint.

But before I could inquire as to what she was thinking, the front door crashed landed in the hall and my biggest big brother, looking quite like a satisfied lumberjack, stomped inside carrying all our abandoned camping gear.

He dropped the bags to the side and swung his head to our location.

"Ah!" he scolded, taking in our slightly obscene posture (mine and Bella's hands trespassed into forbidden regions). "Caught you. You can stop all that nonsense right now. You two have your own house for that. Hey, Carlisle!" he bellowed. "You need to fix your front door."

"Hello, Em," I greeted, impassive, as we untangled ourselves and straightened our clothes.

Relieved of his cargo, he took three long strides and stood over us. "You okay?" he asked, a hand on my shoulder. He wasn't ragging on me or trying to be a jack ass—Emmett was genuinely concerned. Protective even. The question was born from a center of brotherly responsibility. He carried a burden for me—the whole family did in one way or another, although I didn't understand why.

"Yes," I answered truthfully.

Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie filed in and Emmett greeted each in turn, taking an embarrassingly long moment to enjoy what ought to have been a private kiss and grope with Rose. I supposed it would have been hypocritical of me to object, so I politely ignored it.

Then he returned to where I was still seated and patted Bella on the head. "I'm back, little sister. Now don't you worry—we're going to get you the best psychiatrist money can buy."

Besides Bella and me, the rest of the family was rather amused by his comment.

"I don't think there's a medical diagnosis for her disorder," Rosalie reasoned affectionately.

"Sure. It's psychological," Jasper said wryly. "Bella is NAFOD."

"NAFOD... What's that?" Emmett asked.

"It's a military designation. Means 'No Apparent Fear of Death.' "

Again laughter was enjoyed all around...except from the piano bench. Bella stared at the floor, her hair falling around her face like a veil. I thought she was trying to make herself more compact by bowing her shoulders; I obliged by squeezing her tighter.

Jasper observed her embarrassment. "We're just teasing you, honey," he told her. "And even Emmett wouldn't do that if he knew the whole story. You deserve our respect. It was sheer bravery—not insanity—even if it was stupid."

My wife muttered a cynical word of thanks.

"Not that you ought to try something like it again," Alice warned.

As expected, Emmett wanted to know what he had missed, and Rosalie summarily related the happenings. He skeptically examined my regretful mate, who looked no fiercer than a newborn rabbit. Then a slow, fanatical smile spread across his face.

"Fight the power, Bella!" he rallied.

"What I want to know is, what will Carlisle use to replace that strap?" Rose questioned.

"Not my problem," Emmett said.

"It's bound to be your problem sooner or later," I countered.

"Emmett, hold that thought," Alice commanded, just as the big guy was about to open his mouth again. "We need to quit making jokes at Bella's expense, or she and Edward will leave and we won't see them again for three days."

"Can we make fun of Edward then?" Emmett wanted to know.

Alice tilted her head. "No. Same results—different number of days missing."

I didn't respond. I almost hoped they would insult us, so we would have a good excuse to leave. Bella had offered to attend to my wounded anatomy. What were we still doing here? Parts of my southerly physique—despite their injury—practically vibrated in anticipation.

Alice caught my eye. "_You can't leave now, Edward. Ness will throw a fit. She wants you. Just wait until dark. She'll go to bed early."_

The subject of the prophecy happened to come in, followed by Jacob, who was walking on two legs again.

"All right. Who said she could spank me?" Jake demanded, pointing at Renesmee.

I tried unsuccessfully not to smirk. "Sorry, it was meant as a joke."

"Come on, Edward! You know she takes everything literally. And I just got her to stop biting me!" He threw up his hands.

"Now that is damn funny," Emmett hooted.

"Hey, Nessie." Bella stood up. "You ready to go home?" _Thank God._ Bella seemed to be reading _my_ mind.

Our daughter nodded. She was acting drowsy as Alice had predicted. "Daddy, will you carry me home?" she asked.

"It would be my pleasure," I assured. Jake steered her into the kitchen first to see if she would eat dinner before she crashed.

"Oh, wait," Emmett mumbled. "Before you go, let me grab your phone." I had left it with him on the island so I could swim back to Forks. He backed up to the fallen door and grabbed a bag beside it. He set to open it when I discerned from Alice what was about to happen, and I stood up quickly to intercept. My sudden movement seemed to tip him off. "This isn't the right bag," he noticed.

"It's Edward's," Alice said arbitrarily.

I looked at her and subtly raised my eyebrows in question. What was _the_ bag doing here?

_"Sorry,"_ she grimaced. _"Nessie was going to go through it with Esme this afternoon. I saved you some embarrassing explanations."_

I had stashed the bag at the top of our closet precisely so Nessie wouldn't find it. _How...?_

_"She was very busy today,"_ Alice explained, guessing my next question.

"You carry a man bag now, little brother?"

I crossed to Emmett and held out my arm. "No, I was just packing things up from my old room to take to the little house," I lied.

"Don't be ashamed. This is a nice bag," Emmett complimented, holding it up to inspect.

"I carry a man bag," Jasper offered, looking smug. "A messenger tote for my laptop. It's very cultivated—says I care about the appearance of my accessories. You know, _metro_."

"Darling, _metrosexual_ is an outdated neologism for style," Alice corrected helpfully. "Now we would say a man bag is 'urban artsy.' "

"Sounds like Edward, all right." Rose laughed.

"Just give me the bag, please, so we can go home and get Ness to bed."

Fortunately Em complied without his usual intrusive questions, and I passed it to Bella.

Emmett dug around the outside pocket of a backpack and tossed my mobile phone across the room. Bella intercepted. As was her habit when we had been apart, she flipped it on to review my texts.

"Holy crow!" she gasped, her wide eyes glued to the screen.

Judging by her reaction, I had a pretty good idea about what she was looking at.

"Give it to me," I ordered, my hand out. Bella was turning the phone to see the screen at various angles. "Bella," I prodded. I tugged on it but she refused to loosen her grip.

"Leave her alone," Emmett said, "she just wants to see the goods."

"Oh, my God, Emmett, you didn't," Rosalie groaned, covering her eyes.

"Never leave your phone alone with Emmett." Jasper clicked his tongue.

"I didn't have much of a choice now, did I?" I said crossly.

When I finally managed to pry the device from Bella's palm, I confirmed my suspicions. My wallpaper, which had been a portrait of my wife and daughter, was now a close-up of Emmett's genitals.

"Thank you, Emmett. You never tire of that prank."

"You know you like to look," he bantered, confident that I would come back at him.

"Oh, is that right? I didn't know that," I clipped, rewarding his diligent instigation.

"You're the one carrying a man bag."

My reflexes bid me to sink into a predatory crouch, which happened when I was overly irritated. This preemptive pose was often the introduction to our brotherly violence.

"Edward, come on. Ignore him," Bella urged. I think she was as eager as I to get away. At least she was showing restraint; it had been just two days ago that I was pulling her away from my brother. "Nessie!" she called. Our daughter came running and Bella performed the old trick—put the small child in a vampire's arms and we stop trying to kill each other at once. It worked, and Emmett and I apologized.

We said our farewells then, and Jake—despite an open invitation to stay over at the big house—left to spend the night with friends. I carried Nessie through the fog to the cottage, and Bella ran with the duffle bag strapped across her chest. Minutes later, when I set Nessie down in her bedroom, it seemed that the sleepy girl had been revived by the rush home and cool, wet air.

"Daddy, where's my whip?" she asked.

"Pardon? You have a whip?"

She didn't trouble herself to answer, but left me standing on her rug, while she wandered the cottage, accurately picturing a long-handled braided leather whip.

"Um, Ness...?" I called, confused. Jasper had showcased a frighteningly familiar item from the bag of props. But Alice had said she rescued the bag before it was sorted out.

"Here it is! I found it," she yelled from our closet.

"Nessie, where did you get that?" Bella asked, as Renesmee began flicking the end in the air, testing it out.

"From that bag," she said, pointing to the duffle, which rested inanimate and chaste-looking on mine and Bella's bed.

"Oh, my God," Bella mouthed to me.

"All right, then, you found it. Now you can go to bed," I said.

"But I'm not tired." She continued to jerk the whip, backward and forward, causing it to ripple and thrash. I began to worry that she would hurt herself when she used her whole arm, cocking it back over her shoulder and releasing it forward through the air.

"Yes, you are," I argued, although she clearly wasn't.

_"I think Jake gave her a coke to drink,"_ Bella revealed, lifting her shield so I could hear her thoughts. _"I heard him open a can. Do you think the caffeine affects her?"_

I shrugged and nodded, figuring that was probably the best theory.

"What do we do with her now?" Bella asked.

"I'm not sure. I think it's times such as these that cause people to send their children to the grandparents."

Bella laughed. "She won't want to go back."

"I know. Let's keep her."

Often I didn't want Ness to go to sleep—I would much prefer watching her move about, peeking into her thoughts and listening to her quiet chatter. She changed each day. For instance, she spoke aloud more than she used to... But I thought I would remember her always as she was now—in curly pigtails—no matter how much growing up she did.

"I'm a cowgirl, Momma. See? But I need a hat and boots...and a vest, too, I think."

"Yes, you do. Let's talk to Auntie Alice about that in the morning." Bella turned to me. "Edward, you ought to take her outside. I'm worried she might do some damage in here."

So I took her into the woods, and we worked to get the whip to wrap around tree branches so she could swing on it like a vine. On and on she played, swinging and cracking the whip. I thought she would wear herself out. Instead it was my patience wearing. I wanted to get to bed...or the sofa...or the table...or the carpet...or wherever. Would I be horizontal or vertical? Clothed or unclothed...? And what about Bella? Would she wear her hair up or down? My imagination started running away, and I felt more and more concupiscent.

"All right, Nessie. Give me the whip now. It's late."

"Oh, but I'm still playing, Daddy. It's fun."

"I know, but playtime is over."

"I don't want it to be over. I want to play. I say we play until morning."

When I spoke again, I didn't sound like myself at all. "Yeah, well, when did you learn to talk anyway? You know there were eight of us in the family before you even existed? So I'm not certain that you get to have an opinion."

Nessie thought my grumpy face was really funny and she laughed before swinging back up into the treetops. She was going through a climbing phase it seemed. As was typical, she connected the evening's pursuits to her earlier activities. That's when I saw in her memory that she had climbed the shelves in the closet...on Esme's watch. I would need to discuss this with my mother; Nessie was tough, but she wasn't indestructible. She couldn't be allowed to climb shelves that could fall over on her. This, of course, was how she found the bag of props, which Alice took away—but not before giving in to Nessie's pleading and relinquishing the whip. I guess Alice and I would be having a talk, too. Those props were not toys! At least not for children, anyway. I knew it was difficult to be firm, but Nessie couldn't have just anything she wanted.

Bella came out and spoke softly. "Edward, why don't you go lie down in our room. I'll read to her and be in as soon as it's safe."

I obeyed and found myself lying facedown in the center of the bed, my head resting in the cleavage of our pillows.

My mood was poor. No wonder Bella had sent me to my room. I had sounded like a child myself—Nessie's maturity practically surpassed my own, which had been achieved over a century of existing on earth. And in my head, I was berating my mother and sister for improper care of Renesmee when I was doing a rubbish job of it myself.

Well, I supposed I had been through a lot today. I sighed.

"Once I got her dressed for bed and under the covers, she was asleep after one act," Bella said when she came in.

"What are you reading to her?" I flipped myself onto my back.

"_Romeo and Juliet_."

I sneered.

"So... How do you want me?" she asked, sounding flustered. "I can take these off..." Shaking slightly, she peeled down the fitted black yoga pants, leaving tiny purple panties and ivory legs. Then she started off with the panties.

"No, wait," I said. "I like to undress you. It's...sexy."

Bella kicked the underwear aside. "You can take off my t-shirt, I guess." She climbed beside me on the bed, but she wasn't exactly offering her body near enough for me to pull her shirt off. "How do _you_ want to be?"

"I'm not sure why you're asking me."

She didn't answer. Instead she unfastened the button on the waist of my jeans and unzipped the fly. I dug my heels in and lifted my hips as she tugged the jeans and underwear down to the tops of my thighs. When she dipped her head low to inspect, my body reacted instantly.

"It's alive," she intoned in an old monster movie impersonation.

I laughed. "Yes, master."

"Where are you hurt?" she asked.

"It's underneath."

She fell in between my legs and a moment later I felt a delicious gentle sucking where the stinging had afflicted me. It throbbed, but in a pleasurable way.

Her tongue curled upward and circled each globe. My eyes rolled back in my head. I briefly bit down on my finger, but then I didn't know what to do with my hands. I reached down to rest my palms on her head, but when they touched, she sped away to the other side of the room.

"Come back," I beckoned. "What are you doing?" She hesitated but eventually returned to the bed, pressing her nose directly to my shaft. Her tongue pursued, skating along in a wild trail. She was working her way up. The ends of her long hair tickled my thighs, and I stretched down again to play in it. When she felt my hands coming close, she flew away again.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I won't touch. Just don't stop what you're doing. Please." As evidence, I held my hands up and reached back behind my head to grip the rails of the headboard.

Bella made her way back, but she kept flashing back and forth, from my crotch to different corners of the room, never staying longer than a couple of seconds with me—like a fussy hummingbird too high-strung to perch and take a drink. In fact, she wouldn't come within my arm's reach.

But once I proved I could stay hands-off and still, she gradually increased the time she spent there, the head of my monster attentive in her cool mouth, while she coated it with venom and desire. Finally she took as much of me as was fitting. I could feel the muscles of her throat tensing around me. One hand came up to hold us steady, and the other held the rest of the package using fine finger motions, as though she were picking guitar strings or coddling a kitten.

Without thinking first, I let go of the headboard and grabbed Bella's waist, rotating her, so I could get my mouth on her and return the favor. She struggled against my grip, yelling. "I want my panties! Let me go! I want my panties!"

Surprised by her distress, I released her immediately, and she ran to where she had dropped the garments on the floor.

"Why?" I asked, watching her re-dress. "Bella, what's wrong? Why do you keep running from me?"

"I don't want a spanking, Edward," she cried.

"What? Bella, I'm not going to spank you. Did I give you the wrong impression? I thought you wanted to make love..."

The boundaries of sex and discipline, pleasure and pain, blurred in the shadows...again. This time, however, it wasn't my confusion. It was Bella's.

As Emmett would have put it, this was "seriously messed up." Instead of mimicking my brother, I shook my head.

"There's been a grave misunderstanding." I sat up, and Bella moved farther away. "Just because we—" I hadn't quite convinced myself how to articulate it... "When we engage in sexual activity, it's not free access—mmm," I struggled. "It is not permissible for me to hit you, even to punish you. You don't want me to be that sort of authority figure. You want to play, right? I get that, and I respect it. I won't mistreat you. Unless you are consenting, I will not lay a hand on you. We need to trust each other more. If it's dangerous to play—if I think I might really hurt you—I will tell you."

"But I was really bad today. You don't want to...?"

"No, Jasper made me come up with other consequences for when you misbehave."

"Oh, here we go with Jasper again," Bella moaned with a roll of her eyes.

"Jasper's got a soft spot for you. He saved your hide earlier today."

She breathed in sharply. "And you know how I feel about that."

"So it's fine for Carlisle to set limits with you, but not for me."

"It's hard to explain... I haven't figured it all out yet."

"Look, Bella. I really like what you were doing. Will you please come back here?"

"No spankings?"

"No spankings."

She flashed back into my arms and kissed me hard on the mouth. But before I could keep her in my grasp, she leapt away and took her clothes off again—all of her clothes. She stood gloriously naked before me. "I'm in charge," she said.

I nodded. "I thought you like it when I spank you."

"I do. Well...it sort of depends."

"Fine. You don't need to worry about that anymore. Just tell me when you feel like it. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"And if you change your mind, you'll tell me?"

"Okay. I'll try to think about what it is that I want, and I'll let you know when I'm ready to say."

Well, thank goodness we cleared that up.

"Come back, please." I affected the look—the one that used to stun her into compliance.

She presented me with a celestial smile, jumped back on the bed, and crawled over. Without preamble she continued where she had left off, taking the length of me into her chilling yet ardent mouth, pressing lightly with her teeth and insistently with her tongue, which spiraled around the head again and again. She looked so beautiful doing it.

The orgasm was building. I leaned my head back, clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, and endured an all-over shudder as my dream come true wreaked sensational havoc through my body.

"F-f-f-f-f—" My chest heaved with unnecessary panting.

"What was that you said, Edward?" Bella teased, coming up to watch me.

"Forks," I cursed.


	14. Chapter 14

"Missus...Cullen..." I drawled, shocked and grateful. My mouth wasn't working properly again, and Bella laughed at me.

"How was that?"

"It was..."

Bella prompted me with a nod.

"All I can think to say is—and I'm quoting J. M. Barrie here—'good form!' You do a bang-up job of it."

"Thank you." She accepted the compliment.

"No, thank _you_." I eased my jeans back over my aching muscles. I didn't mind; I liked to feel sore. I wasn't about to admit that out loud, however, so I grimaced with the effort.

"Where's your belt, Edward?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I baited.

Her expression turned from mild curiosity to absolute need-to-know. "All right, all right. It's on standby. In Carlisle's study. I left it there...you know—for the cause."

"What cause?"

"Oh, I don't know…. The Cullen Corporal Creed, also known as the Young Vampire Attitude Adjustment campaign. It's currently my favorite non-profit. I wanted to donate."

I hadn't yet learned my lesson about using sarcasm to make light of a distressing subject. My wife looked slightly panicked and a lot sorry. I thought it would be kind to distract her. "Um, Bella? I thought you didn't want to do—what you just did. What made you change your mind?"

She sighed and shrugged. I knew she was determining whether or not I would find out if she didn't volunteer the information. "Alice gave me 'the talk' while you were in Canada. She said that when you love someone, you are willing to do things you thought you might never do. For example, taking a whipping for her, or performing sexual favors for him." She chewed her lip. "...It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"I'm flattered," I replied blandly.

"Yep. So what sort of grandiose present are you going to buy Alice?"

"I'm open to suggestion."

"You know, I was thinking while we were doing all that..."

"Yes?"

"I know what it is that I want."

"Tell me."

"I think I want you to control me so that I can fight you."

"Really?" _But that's what we do already, _I reasoned thoughtfully to myself_._ "I don't understand."

"I want to rebel. I want to struggle against the limits you set for me. I want you to try to keep me restrained. It's what we do, Edward." _Yes, I know—I just thought of that._

"Is that really all there is to it?" I questioned.

"There's probably more. I'm still thinking about things."

"Well, I was thinking, too," I slowed to build suspense, "and for all the hell you put me through yesterday—"

"I figured this was coming," she interrupted. "You know your parents are giving me a consequence for that, remember?"

"Well, I'm the one who got hurt. Besides, you misbehaved twice."

"And watching you suffer wasn't punishment enough?" she shrilled.

"Nobody feels sorry for you, Bella."

"Nobody?"

"Nope. Not me. Not all the people reading this story"—I know because I can read your minds —"Well, maybe Jasper."

"You can leave the reading audience out of it," she said, resentful. "It's our marriage."

"I literally can't. I'm thinking of their requests and entertainment always. They wanted you properly roughed up for your transgressions. I admit, I considered it. But now that we went easy on you, I think many of them aren't speaking to me anymore. It's heartbreaking really..." Bella looked very cross. "Of course, it's all about you, too," I added quickly. "You're the reason I exist on earth. I want what's best for you."

"Mm-hm."

"I'm uncertain, but I think the readers might be bored with us."

"Well, why don't you ask Jasper," she suggested sharply. "I'm sure he's got plenty of ideas to liven this story up."

"That's a grand idea, Bella! I think I'll do that." I rolled my eyes.

"And what about Carlisle? Was he thinking of the readers, too, or was he more concerned for my well-being?"

"Oh, Carlisle? No, he's a selfish bastard, who thinks only of himself." We both laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

"So what's the thing, then," she demanded to know.

"I'm taking the Dyson away."

Bella gasped.

My wife and her vacuum cleaner shared an intimate relationship. She used Esme's "Animal" at the big house one day and was altogether besotted—like one might fall for a new puppy. I bought a very modern-looking red model soon after, and Bella had been experimenting ever since, seeing if she could clog it. I was careful now not to leave my valuables on the floor. She had sucked up articles of clothing, writing utensils, coins, and keys—never to be seen again.

"For how long?" She looked utterly lost.

"I will give it back when I come home from British Columbia...again...if you can be good for that long."

"But, Edward, you can't take it. It never loses suction!"

"Now you two have that in common."

She swatted me, but I knew she took it as a compliment, being compared to that machine. "The house will be a disaster. What about crumbs from Nessie's meals?"

"We have a dog, Bella. Don't worry about it."

"You're awful!" She was smiling when she said it, so I thought it was a term of endearment. But then Bella turned pensive. "So, you've got to go back to Canada?"

"Yes. I would like to take you, but I can't. It's better anyway if you stay with Nessie. Then we can take her hunting together after."

Bella nodded. "I didn't want you to go the first time."

"Why didn't you say so?" I would have stayed had she asked me to.

"I don't know... I knew your brothers would give you hell for it."

"I can handle Jazz and Em. But that, Isabella Cullen, is what will continue to land you in trouble."

"What?"

"Not talking to me about what you want or need. Do it again, and I won't hesitate to take you over my knee."

Bella's eyes grew wide, and she shifted out of my reach. Then she threw herself back to me, attaching her body to mine and hiding her face under my arm. I couldn't tell if she was frightened or hesitantly eager.

I was concerned I had overreached and I was seeking approval. "How was that? Did you like it? Was it too much?"

She groaned lightly and lifted her face from my underarm. "It was exciting, but you just ruined it by asking me. Just be natural, Edward."

"Sorry. I'll try. You want me to be controlling, you said."

"Darling, you do that without thinking...no need to try too hard." Bella smoothed my cheek.

"Right," I promised, still slightly confused. "Oh, and don't forget that fear is a sexual turn on for you."

"What? Is it? How do you know that?"

Had we not discussed this? I wasn't about to tell her that Jasper had figured it out, so I lied — well, not completely. "When you lifted your shield during our, er…playtime the other evening... I saw."

"Oh," she exclaimed gently, showing modest interest.

Then Bella pranced away to the shower and opened her mind to me. I rubbed myself, nearly unaware of what I was doing. She spoiled me with dirty thoughts, which was almost as good as being in there with her. Almost. I nearly ran smack into the shower doors, forgetting that I needed to get out of my clothes first...which I did with haste. (It was the third time those jeans had come off.) Then I joined her under the sprays, supervising her cleaning. I also took the liberty of penetrating a certain unseen area...you know, to be sure it was shipshape in there, too. It reminded me of a joke that Emmett told me: don't have sex standing up because someone might think you're dancing. (Apparently when he was growing up in Tennessee, people thought dancing was a sin.)

After our other little monster (not the monster in my pants, but our daughter—being the fruit of my loins, it was a suitable nickname for her, as well) woke up, we made plans to travel over to the family house, so Jasper and I could take care of our unfinished business. While Bella was taking one more lap around the cottage with her Dyson before it was officially impounded, Nessie climbed up onto the roof, so, naturally, I followed her. We indulged in the popular game of finding shapes in the clouds.

"Look at that one, Daddy!" Renesmee pointed. "It looks just like Grandmother's head."

"Oh, yes, I see now. It's her profile."

"And see her finger pointed up?"

"She's wagging it at us. She's saying, 'Edward Masen Cullen, where are you? You come home this instant. It is rude to keep the whole family waiting!' " Nessie was cackling and rolling at my imitation, and I grabbed onto her arm to keep her from falling off the rooftop.

"We had better get Momma to come on before Grandmother comes down here from out of the sky," Ness said, when she finally quit laughing.

It took some work to get the Dyson away from Bella. When she pouted, I spanked her—not to hurt, but still Bella growled in my face.

"Edward Cullen, you may not go around randomly smacking me!"

"Why not?" I sounded dense, even to myself, but her reaction surprised me.

"Because it makes me want to punch you in the face!"

I mumbled an apology and coaxed my girls out the door. I carried the vacuum cleaner, Bella carried Nessie, and Nessie carried the whip.

When we arrived, Esme was waiting. She wanted Renesmee to help her with some pruning she had been saving for her. That would keep her busy for the day. Nessie loved to trim hedges—as much as she liked cracking a whip apparently.

I caught Carlisle about to head up the stairs. He wore the same khaki trousers he had on yesterday, but he had lost his shirt sometime in the night and hadn't yet replaced it.

"Edward, you want to join me for a moment?"

"Sure, Carlisle." I followed my shirtless father up the steps. He made a detour to his room to grab a gray crew-neck that he slipped on as we sat on the sofa in his study and chatted. He asked why Nessie was walking around in the garden with a whip. I confessed about the bag of props.

_"Are things all sorted with Bella?"_ he asked, unspeaking.

"Yes, I think so."

_"That reminds me..."_ He stood up and opened a desk drawer. "You might be needing this back," he said, offering me my belt.

"I don't want it," I muttered, embarrassed.

"Not even as a memento? You could hang it up in cottage."

"That would be quite the conversation piece..."

We chuckled. _Oh, you mean that gently-used brown leather belt Alice got at Harrods? It's a funny story actually..._

_"I meant as a deterrent to bad behavior."_

"I haven't the vaguest idea what you mean, Carlisle," I bluffed.

He caught my sarcasm and smiled suggestively, but didn't elaborate.

"Hang it up, hm? Like, 'Go fetch the belt?' It's a possibility, but I sort of prefer the phrase, 'Don't make me take off my belt, young lady'," I droned in a deeper voice.

"That is a classic." He thought he might use a line like it in the future.

"You determined Bella's punishment," I prompted, interpreting his unvoiced thoughts.

"Yes, she's going to accompany me today to an eight-hour meeting on hospital policy. I think it will be a good opportunity for us to spend time together. Heal some of our wounds. What do you think?"

"It's brilliant. Cruel even. She'll hate every second of it."

"I'm counting on that." He grinned.

We made our way back downstairs, and Alice fitted Jasper and me with a couple of wet suits that zipped up over our clothes.

Locked in a deep kiss, Bella and I had trouble parting. Alice was tugging on Bella, and Jasper stood a couple steps behind my back, patiently waiting for me to separate.

"Come on, Bella," Alice whined. "We've only got twenty minutes to go over our costumes, and you're going to ask, 'What costumes?' and I'm going to tell you that we need them for Cullen karaoke."

Bella pulled back, but didn't break eye contact with me. "What?"

"The next karaoke competition is coming up, and you and Rose and I are performing ABBA, and we need costumes. You are going to look so fly!"

Alice was caught up in a vortex of visions—feathers and glittering lights and platform shoes. _"See, Edward? I told you so."_ She was reminding me that she had predicted that Bella would be joining the family as a vampire by the next karaoke night, knowing so because her pitch was perfect and she danced without twisting an ankle or falling off the stage.

"Edward and Carlisle do a knock-out Simon and Garfunkel impression," Jasper said, not hiding his excitement and boosting the enthusiasm among the present party.

"Which of you is Garfunkel?" Bella asked, under Jasper's spell.

"He is," Carlisle and I said at the same time.

"Carlisle, I don't want to sing Simon and Garfunkel," I complained. "I want to do Queen."

He shrugged amicably. "That's fine." He was wistfully thinking of me as his overindulged son that he would do anything for…even if it was "Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Esme, Emmett, and Jasper, too?" Bella asked.

"Yes," Alice assured, "Esme will perform Red Hot Chili Peppers. Jasper is—"

"Undecided," he finished.

"You're considering Jerry Lee Lewis," Alice informed. "But I'll let Emmett surprise you," she said to Bella.

I plucked the answer from my sister's head and let it slip out the side of my mouth. "Aretha Franklin. 'Respect'."

"No!" Bella shouted, skeptical and amused.

"Emmett prefers angry female vocalists," I explained. "His specialties are Avril Lavigne, Taylor Swift, and Alanis Morissette."

"Why can't we do something from my era?" Bella asked Alice.

"ABBA is for every era," Alice settled it stiffly.

"Everything is already determined," I said. "Who sings with whom, what decade, et cetera. It's a complicated process, but you must sing with Rosalie and Alice, and it's got to be 1970s. Carlisle and I are seventies, too. Jasper fifties. Emmett sixties. Esme nineties."

The fervor waned as Jasper concentrated on his selection. Bella shuddered.

"Don't worry," Alice soothed. "It's just family. And Jake, of course. And Sue Clearwater—"

"Why Sue?" Bella interrupted.

"Because I invited Charlie. It looks like Billy might come to. And Seth, but not Leah. That's all."

"Wife," Jasper said grimly, "you're making Bella uncomfortable."

"I can take care of her just fine, husband," Alice cheeked. "A good time will be had by all."

She finally succeeded in dragging Bella off of me, as the latter mouthed, "Help me."

I chuckled at her intolerably cute panic. "Oh, and Bella? Carlisle's planned an activity for the two of you. Do as he says," I warned.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I will be fine. You know I was grounded for like a year after I met you. I'm sure I can handle Carlisle's punishment."

_"Go, Edward!"_ Alice shooed me with the hand she didn't have secured around Bella's waist.

"Okay, little brother. Let's get!" Jasper commanded happily.

He and I tucked our wallets and phones into our suits and took off for the water. Once ashore north of the border, we abandoned the wet suits and headed to the nearest RV dealership. Alice had requested a motorhome. She foresaw us taking family trips with Nessie and Jake to some secluded beaches, and thought the more human members of our clan might appreciate the ability to lounge, access a bathroom, and eat on the road.

"I'll buy. You drive," Jasper said.

"No, no. I owe Alice. Let me make the purchase," I argued. After some brief overly polite banter, he let me present my American Express. "You can pick the color," I offered with superb manners.

We didn't know the first thing about buying a recreational vehicle, so we ended up with a top-of-the-line Class A Gulfstream. We figured Rosalie would work on it anyway. As swanky as it was (and trendsetting, or so the dealer assured us), it was impossible to drive as fast as I wanted. We had a long trip ahead of us, including a lazy ferry ride, so our chat eventually drifted to the popular topic of conversation: Bella.

"How are things with Miss Bella? Any better?"

I had to laugh. "Carlisle asked me just that this morning."

"And...?"

"It is better. I'm still confused, though. Bella says she wants me to try to control her so she can challenge me, but then she makes up rules about what I can and can't do. It's disconcerting."

"I'll bet..." I listened to Jasper process what I was telling him.

"You think she doesn't want me to follow her rules," I pointed out his half-formed theory.

"I'm just thinking. But, yes. She basically told you that she likes you to overrule her objections. That's what she wants."

"Oh!" I exclaimed with a thrill of victory. _Maybe...finally...I figured Bella out._ Then self-doubt overshadowed my moment. "Yes, but she also said she wanted to punch me in the face. What do I do? How do I be what she wants me to be and not get hurt?"

"Just do what a well-bred Victorian gentleman such as yourself would naturally do in a marriage. Your personality is dominant, Edward, but you are too caught up with romantic notions of courtly love."

I thought I could easily do that. But then I had to find something to dispute for the sake of my reputation. "The year of my birth was the dawn of the Edwardian period."

"What's that?" Jasper asked, confused by my apparent non sequitur.

"King Edward took the throne in 1901. To be accurate, I'm Edwardian, not Victorian."

He thought for a moment. "Why, yes you are. And I'm sure Edward VII was the life of the party too."

"He was very fashionable, I've heard."

Then Jasper cut to the chase.

"Edward, the fact is, you have nothing more to complain about." He let me consider the truth of that statement. "Is that going to be a problem?"

I turned my vision back to the highway 101, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

_Nothing more to complain about?_ My mind pushed to its limits to find something worth a grumble. But, no. Nothing. And that was fine with me.

"What am I going to do with the rest of eternity?" I wondered aloud.

With his tongue in his cheek, Jasper answered my private musing. "You're going to 'do' Bella, that's what."

**Author's note: I wish to dedicate shirtless Carlisle to my beta, sisterglitch. In fact, he probably lost his shirt doing something with SG during the night. I'm sure it was something harmless and helpful, like a physical exam or something. It was too warm in the room, and he asked if she wouldn't mind. And she's too polite to refuse. So accommodating, that woman— Oh, it (*nervous cough*)it seems Edward wants to say something, so I'll let him leave a note next. All yours, Edward...**

**Edward's note: Pardon me. Hello. My name is Edward Cullen. It's nice to make your acquaintance finally. Some of you are wondering if I indeed asked Jasper for his ideas to make this story more entertaining for you. In fact, I did, and he kindly offered his suggestions—**

**Jasper's note: Three-quarters of which he turned down. "Unacceptable" was the word you used, wasn't it, Edward?**

**EN: I said I would consider them. But honestly, some of it was difficult to conceive...**

**JN: Trust me, Edward. I know what I'm doing. This is not my first rodeo, if you know what I mean.**

**EN: Yes, the readers already presumed as much. No more interruptions, please. [Pause.] Thank you. [To the readers...] If you would allow me, it would be my pleasure to present you one last scene. You won't be disappointed. Of course, I'm noting your recommendations, as well as Jasper's, so please don't hesitate to contact me via the author.**

**AN: That reminds me, Edward ... I believe this chapter contains yet another of your product endorsements. If anybody reading this is with Dyson or Under Armour corporate, PM me, and I'll let you know where to send the check.**

**EN: And, as always, thank you for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

Finally feeling unburdened, I jauntily strode into the great room, which was filled by an assortment of supernatural creatures in their distinct poses. Without prelude, I crossed over to the chair-back where my father was seated, grabbed his head on either side, titled it back, and kissed him noisily on the forehead.

My mother watched, mouth open. Bella pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. Carlisle remained composed, but inwardly, he was floating somewhere up near the ceiling—he was so pleased to be awarded my undaunted devotion. The whole family was shocked, as it was uncharacteristic of me to show such conspicuous affection. Perhaps this was the first time I had been comfortable enough with myself to do it.

"Edward, man, you look...different," Emmett scrutinized. "Changed," he decided. Then his face brightened with understanding as his head flashed from mine to Bella's. "Oh, oh, oh...! I know! You—"

Jasper effectively cut him off. "That's right, Emmett, he's a new RV owner!"

"Or rather Alice is," I said, throwing the keys in her direction.

She squealed when she caught them and bounced on the sofa cushion, slender pixie legs folded gracefully underneath. "I get to drive you all wherever I want?"

"Um, I suppose. It is yours. You already tell us all where to go anyway, you might as well drive us yourself." I tried to picture it. "You could use Nessie's booster seat to see over the dash, but I don't know how you'll reach the pedals..."

"Come on, darlin'," Jasper said to his mate. "Let's go check out the interior." He meant that he and Alice would be "christening" the new vehicle.

"If this rig's a' rockin', don't come a' knockin'," Emmett quipped, not fooled for a second. _"Congratulations on getting head,"_ he thought to me. I subtly saluted my thanks.

Jasper continued. "Edward and I parked it at the chamber of commerce building. In the meantime, I reckon the rest of you could work on limbing the trees so we can get the thing down the driveway?"

Suddenly Alice was assaulted by a vague but violent vision that included a lot of blood. She made a gagging noise. Hearing my mother's liberal intentions and Renesmee's eager ideas, I quickly sorted it out.

"Nessie may not use a chainsaw. It's too dangerous." I looked pointedly at Esme.

"Aw," Nessie complained softly. She wanted desperately to hang from the treetops and saw branches with the rest of the family.

"Renesmee..." Carlisle, who was holding her on his lap, patted her hair and listened to her silent protests. "I know you want to, but it would frighten the adults. Nobody wants to see you hurt, poppet."

"She's going through a sort of clumsy phase," Rosalie whispered to me. "We finally made Jacob leave; he was having conniptions trying to keep her from falling."

Sure enough, when I narrowed my eyes, I noticed several new bruises on Nessie's skin.

My father was intrigued by these varied stages the little girl experienced. There had been the strict adherence to a human blood diet, then the biting, bringing home dead animals, a fixed fascination with the more bawdy Canterbury Tales, and one week of straight reality television and fingerless gloves. At least, according to her history, we could count on this phase running its course and concluding within a few days. That and the climbing obsession. Oh, and the damned whip. I was NOT raising an immortal dominatrix. (Although...since Jacob had rudely imprinted on my daughter, it would be good payback.) The pruning hobby could stick; I didn't care if she had a propensity for topiary as long as she stayed away from electric saws.

I beckoned the little girl to me and held her in my arms, kissing her head and hoping she wouldn't be too cross with me for dashing her logging aspirations.

"I think we will leave you all to it, then," I announced to the crowd. "If that's all right with Bella?" I looked her way.

"Whatever you say," she agreed hesitantly.

"That's right. Know your place, Bella," Emmett teased, which earned him a slap in the gut from Rose.

Strange, but my wife looked like she was waiting for another family member to rescue her from having to leave with me.

"Enjoy the camper," she said finally, when no other option presented itself.

"It's a recreational vehicle," Jasper corrected, tossing out a dose of fortitude when he detected her unease. "It's got two bedrooms..." he marveled.

Bella was dragging as we left the house, and I wondered if something upsetting had happened during her day out with Carlisle. His perspective about it had been positive, but..._something_ was wrong.

After we jumped the river, I took her hand.

"Um, Edward? Did you plan on giving me back the Dyson?" she asked restlessly.

I paused, shifting a pouting Renesmee from my back to my hip. "That depends. Did you behave yourself today? How was the meeting?"

She turned glib all of a sudden. "It was good to be with Carlisle, even if I was bored to death! I had no idea the bureaucracy involved. I mean, these medical professionals are trying to save lives and heal people, but then there is all this legal nonsense to worry about... They can't be with their patients for all the necessary forms and reports—although Carlisle can finish all that in record time, he has to pretend to take longer—"

She was rambling. From nerves or what, I didn't know.

"Good. I'm happy you managed to keep yourself out of trouble for one day. You and your vacuum may be reunited. However, I forgot it in my mother's cleaning cupboard. Do you want me to go back inside and get it, or can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Well, that's the thing..." Her voice faltered.

I waited. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"It's actually not in your mother's closet."

"So then where is it?" I didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"It's at the cottage." Her lip trembled and she covered her eyes with her hands. "I killed it!"

"All right," I said slowly. "How did you do that? You couldn't have been home much longer than me."

She peeked out from her fingers. "It only took me about three minutes."

"To kill the Dyson?"

"Well, to spring it from your parents' house and take it back to the cottage."

"And then you murdered it? Was it premeditated?"

"No," she shuddered. "I was vacuuming up around the fireplace. I thought the ashes had cooled, but when one big piece of ember got sucked up into the cyclone thingy and started spinning around, it caught on fire, and then the cyclone caught on fire—and—and—it melted!" She was sobbing decently by the end of her speech.

"Oh, Bella," I murmured. Nessie and I held her while she cried. "Serves you right, my little delinquent."

"It was such a good appliance," she wept. "The best ever made by man..."

Now I had two heartbroken females to deal with this evening.

When she quieted, I handed our daughter over. "Why don't you take her for a hunt. I'm going to investigate the crime scene and get it sorted. Then we can say a proper goodbye to the Dyson."

She nodded and turned to go.

"And Bella? After bedtime, I will see you in our room, and we will address your wrong doing." Her mood changed dutifully and she gave me a sharp nod.

The cottage reeked of burnt plastic, the air inside holding onto a light screen of smoke. The Dyson was standing upright near the hearth. I removed the bin and inspected the cyclone, which suffered from two charred holes. When I turned it on, leaned it back, and ran it along the rug, I determined the awful diagnosis: the Dyson had in fact lost its suction. But the good news was, I thought it might survive with a transplant. Until I could order a cyclone replacement, we would make the Dyson as comfortable as possible and wait.

Now what to do about Bella...? I didn't think the arson was calculated, but she had deliberately stolen the off-limits property and used it to clean the cottage.

_Unbelievable!_ I was being tested again...and so soon. But I wouldn't make any mistakes this time. Intentional or not, this _was_ a test. I was already a passenger on this train; it was making no stops and the end of the line was no where in sight.

Had it not caught fire, the vacuum might have been successfully returned to the big house without my knowledge. Or, Bella may have intended to get caught being naughty. It was hard to say. Whether she acted consciously or not, it was important that I not fail her.

Jasper had told me that Bella, being a modern woman, was required to react with righteous indignation to my controlling behavior. He said I would not be able to trust her counteractions, which would be false, but to proceed in faith that—even when she fought me—this was what she wanted. That _I_ was what she wanted. "If you understood her too well, Edward, you might be gay," Jasper had encouraged.

I entered the bedroom and caught Alice's scent underneath the fumes. I observed the leather duffle on the bed, and when I opened it, I found new props. On top was the belt Carlisle had returned to me that morning. It was lying on note paper, on which Alice had written,

~Edward~  
>Bella's outfit is in the washroom.<br>But don't look!  
>Wait and be surprised.<p>

She had arranged a costume for me, too. I unfolded first a striped necktie, a collared-shirt, and a brown waistcoat and trousers, made of what looked to be a waterproof gabardine fabric. It looked like the sort of wool sack suit Edward Masen, Sr., would wear to work during the 1910s, minus the jacket. I thought it might be vintage; it smelled like pipe tobacco, cedar, and the seashore. When I checked the lining, my suspicions were confirmed to find an aged Burberry of London label.

I left these items—including an envelope addressed to Bella—out, closed up the bag, and threw it up to the closet shelf. Then I laid the belt and Bella's letter on a bed pillow, where I knew she would notice. (We hadn't designated his and her sides of the bed, because we only used it for one thing, and that didn't require division. When we reclined together, now and when Bella was human, out of habit I lay to her left, so I could hold her with my dominate arm. But neither of us had officially declared, "This is my side.")

I shed my traveling clothes and dressed myself in the new outfit. I left the vest open and knotted the tie loosely. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt...since I would be doing the servicing and not merely attending a service. The suit fabric was durable and allowed for free range of movement. I laced up my brown dress boots, rolled the pant legs up a bit, and ran laps in the rain around the property, a half-mile in diameter.

While I ran, I planned our evening tryst. We couldn't very well do what we were going to do with our daughter trying to sleep in the next room, so I decided that we would take our play outside.

A quarter of an hour later, I was back at home base and Bella arrived with a sleeping Renesmee in her arms.

"She exhausted herself...and me," Bella explained, transferring the child to my embrace. "She kept tripping, and I found myself getting aggravated, especially when I failed to catch her in time and she cried. I was sympathetic, of course, but I couldn't help but think, why are you being such a daredevil all of a sudden? Of all the things to inherit from me!"

"It will pass," I reassured. "It brings back fond memories of your thrill-seeking days. I never minded catching you before you hit the ground."

She rolled her eyes and then licked her lip. "You look...really...sexy."

"Thank you. Alice, you know." I smiled.

We whisked Nessie under her bedcovers, plugged in the nightlight, and took turns kissing her goodnight.

With nothing else to do, Bella sighed and drifted to our bedroom, taking a moment first to run her hand over the infirm Dyson.

I stayed statue-still in the dark den, waiting. When I heard the bed shift minutes later, I walked in to find Bella kneeling there. She didn't lift her eyes, but instead raised her arms to offer me the belt. I laid a hand on the crown of her head and raised her face to meet mine.

"Lift your shield," I directed. She complied instantly, her main focus being that she didn't want Renesmee to wake up and hear.

With an unobstructed view of her mind, I indulged in a lazy study of her body.

_God Almighty._ She was wearing a camisole, corset, and drawers, which cuffed above the knee. It was all ivory and ribbons and lace. Her hair was half-way pinned up, but curled wisps fell out to outline her face and narrow chin. She looked like she had stepped right out of a sepia-toned Victorian porn photograph. Or she would when I had made a couple of alterations.

One detail was inconsistent.

"Isabella, why are you wearing Wellingtons to bed?" I asked.

Bella frowned down at the bronze rubber boots beside her. "Alice, sir. She—"

"I understand," I interrupted. Alice must have seen that I would take Bella out into the wet forest. "That's fine." I stood there for a minute, cocking my head and slapping the belt into the palm of my left hand.

Suddenly I hooked one arm around her waist and anchored her to my side. I ran with Bella to a choice location in the woods—far enough away that Nessie wouldn't be disturbed, but close enough to get back if we needed to. I set her down on her feet in the ferns. Bella was relieved that Nessie wouldn't overhear her whipping, but she was worried for leaving the little girl alone.

"I can watch her dreaming, and we can be back in half a second if she wakes up."

"Yes," Bella agreed.

"You're good?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Yes, what?"

"Oh! Yes, sir."

"Good. We need to take care of your punishment first. Once that's out of the way—seeing that you are dressed to be undressed—I want to play with you. And I want to taste you. If you behave during your correction, you will be rewarded. I want to know before we start: did you take the Dyson so I would punish you?"

The shield dropped like a heavy velvet curtain before I could get even a shadowy glimpse of truth. "Isabella. Shield. Up."

And then there was light. And yes, she did do it so I would punish her. Fine. Then I would punish her.

"But I changed my mind later—" she shouted urgently.

"Quiet! No talking."

Her mind was reeling with fear and lust. I pulled her over to a fallen tree, where I sat and bent her over to rest on my thighs. The belt in my right hand fell to the ground, and instead I swept my hand reverently over her posterior. These cloth drawers were split at the crotch and up the back. _Sublime!_ My hand invaded under the material and separated it to expose her bottom. I could see the silky dark hairs that trailed from her front and peaked up the part. It brought to mind some of the more ribald suggestions Jasper provided me in the RV. These ideas excited me—not just the swelling monster in my pants and the other monster personality, which was getting geared up as well—but _me_. Edward. The old-fashioned husband-boy-vampire-musician, who was also apparently a pervert. I was startled at how I had degenerated over the last several days.

Naturally, I had acted appalled by his remarks, but Jazz sensed my interest beneath my pretension.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that, Jasper," I had grumbled.

"I am not the reason for the pain in your ass, Edward, but I am trying to prevent that from happening anymore."

I supposed he was right. My resistance was probably the source of my suffering. That and young Mrs. Cullen, who was bent on finding the chinks (and kinks) in my armor of honor.

Now I was returning the favor. Bella was reveling in her time over my knee—despite the smacking—the toes of her boots kicking up mud and moss. She still assumed I was going to use my belt next, but she was wishing for the rod I had used last time; in her thoughts she called it "that whipping stick." The rod unfortunately was back in closet with the other props, but I thought I could improvise.

When her whimpers turned to real muffled cries, I stood her up. "Stay," I ordered. I picked up the fallen belt and folded it into my pocket. With my teeth I cut a branch from a nearby alder and stripped off the leaves, bending it in my hands to determine its pliancy. I used the stick to direct her to our next position, as though she were a performing circus lion.

I was getting an idea from when Nessie played outside with her whip, wrapping the ends of it in the overhead trees and swinging through the forest.

I climbed a western hemlock and walked out on a low branch until she was directly under me. "Lift your arms, Isabella, and grasp the limb." When her hands made purchase, I used the belt to tightly wrap her wrists and buckle her to the tree. Surprised, she watched me.

Jumping down in front of Bella, I surveyed my work. My wife was stretched out, but not quite on her toes. Just slight portions of her calf and knee were showing skin. I did love Bella's knees. She looked helpless, although I knew that was an illusion. "Do not break the belt, Isabella, or you will be in trouble. And do not slip out of it either."

Her costume was both sweet and risqué. Boldly I felt her breasts through their covering. "I like this camisole very much, but I'm going to like tearing it off even more." Then I ripped it at the shoulder straps and tugged it completely off so that her exposed breasts rested on top of the corset.

I noted my own appearance in Bella's sight. If I had sported a beard and cigarette, I might have looked very much like my human father, having inherited his height and build. I wondered at what point in my relationship with Bella that Alice acquired this turn-of-the-century apparel. ...Or before Bella perhaps...? I kept similar three-piece suits in my closet, but they were fashionably modern, of course. This reminded me of another line Jasper had delivered during my first tutorial: "Just because you step a toe into the gutter doesn't mean you'll ruin your fine suit." Well, I was ankle-deep in it now, but fortunately Alice had bought me waterproof pants.

I started switching her bottom and legs—below the waist and above the knee-high boots**. **Initially Bella was hyper-aware of every stinging swish, and she started to twist and buck. (I knew we would both be grateful for those Wellies later when we could slide them off and leave them outside with the muck.) But then an odd thing happened, and all the physical sensations faded to a pleasant haze and her thoughts blanked. She was hovering in a lovely mindless state, seemingly unaware of her pain and setting. I was afraid she was in shock and would fall out of the hand restraints.

"Isabella..." I called, stroking the end of the switch along the back of her knee, then up to her neck. She didn't respond. I dropped the stick and came up beside her, allowing her body to lean into my side as I supported her around the waist. She came back to me with my touch, turning her face up to mine.

I smiled at her. "You did very well," I praised. She smiled back. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," she said weakly.

I shifted to her front, held her shoulders, and kissed her lips. Then I slid down and knelt low with my face at the apex of her thighs. My hands grasped her hips, and I ducked in. Bella squirmed against my hold.

"The land of broken dreams," Jasper had called it. Although compact, it was without question its own realm. I was discovering that inside Bella was a lot like the Olympic Peninsula wilderness where we lived. Cool...confined...misty...under cover... With friction, it turned almost steamy in there. The ideal habitat for my mouth and nose, I thought. I would stake my territory here.

And then I felt her hand on my forehead, pushing me away. She did it without any forethought. I reared back and spanked her, and she shrieked at the surprise smack. _You play with this monster, and you're going to get bit._

Standing up, I took the errant hand and reached to bind it back into the belt loop over our heads.

Then without apology or warning, I went back to where I had left off, sliding my tongue in and around her opening and nibbling gently on the edges. By and by I felt the energy increasing. Her upper body shuddered, and down where I was—well! An earthquake! The whole thing pulsed like a strong, slow heartbeat. It was phenomenal! I stayed hidden there for a while because I couldn't suppress my prideful grin.

When I stood up again, I kept my eyes on Bella's, while I undid my trouser fly. She was panting through a slight, embarrassed smile. I let the monster out. Grabbing her behind, I lifted with one arm and inserted myself inside. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I clutched her head to my chest with my free hand. She was still suspended from the tree branch by her arms as I pushed my hips to drive in the stake. A dozen thrusts later and I was melting from my own climax.

Beyond my body's physiological response to the panting and squeezing and grinding was a sense of deep intimacy. Bella's alluring, guarded mind was unlocked for me, and that submission converted what would have been an automatic bodily reflex into enhanced sensation. It transcended a "dirty fuck in the forest," as I imagined Em would call it. It was sacred. Like worship. Furthermore, I saw her adoration for me, as well as her gratification. I had never encountered anything more intense or passionate in all my existence. Isabella Cullen's mind was the most dirty, sexy, beautiful thing ever.

Once recovered, I reached up to unbuckle the belt and release Bella's wrists**. **I brushed the wet dirt from my knees and carried her bridal style through the damp woods toward our cottage. I murmured nonsense in her ear as I stomped, slow paced through the loamy soil and slick ground cover.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," I sang softly. "You are my girl. My obstinate girl. My obdurate girl. My obstinate, obdurate, dis-_obedient_ object of love." She laughed at my foolish chatter, but then her expression turned reflective.

"What are you thinking?" I begged quietly, since she was hiding behind her shield again.

She lovingly touched my cheek. "I _am_ your girl, Edward," she whispered. "And you—you are my old boy."

I smiled as she laid her head down on my chest. _Yes._

I had resisted Bella's desires because they confused me, but my efforts to understand her had been successful. We had been successful together. I needed this as much as she did. I had ventured outside my natural inhibitions to give my beloved wife what she wanted, maybe even beyond what she knew she wanted. I understood her better, and myself as well. I had satisfied her and that, more than anything, had satisfied me. I had learned that bringing myself closer to my mate was important enough to justify behavior I had previously judged immoral, but was not necessarily dishonorable within the confines of a committed intimate relationship. My older brothers had learned this lesson long ago.

I had grown up a lot during this experience. I _was_ an old-fashioned husband. I was Bella's old boy... And moreover, I was a lucky man.

THE END

**Author's note: So there it is. We will leave Edward and Bella to explore each other's naughty bits and kinky fetishes in private. I hope it was entertaining!**

**I want to take a line to say THANK YOU for reading! I am beyond thrilled to know that people have been enjoying An Old-fashioned Husband in various parts of the world. It was so wonderful to hear from some of you.**

**And thank you again to sisterglitch! SG helped me finish this chapter, and she provided excellent support and aftercare during the whole writing process. (Did you realize that writers need aftercare, too?) Not once did she tie me up and whip me (*frown*), because she is just really nice.**

**I can always hope for next time.**

**Until then, dear readers...**

**—E. (who will be wearing her Wellies for the rest of the week waiting to hear your approval, or disapproval, whichever it may be)**


	16. Alternative Chapter 12

**A/N: This story was marked "complete" sometime last year, and yet, I've had some requests for that alternative ending of sorts (I wrote this long ago). This segment would replace chapter 12. To catch you up, in chapter 11 Edward's taken a beating for Bella, who stole the family strap from Dr. C.'s study. In response, Bella defiantly shreds the strap and runs away.**

**Here's what might've happened in the less-lenient version ... a lot of hitting.**

"But she likes it, Carlisle. You would be giving in to her demands. How is that teaching her a lesson?" I was still lying sideways on his sofa, an arm hiding my eyes.

He thoughtfully considered my moaning. "Right. Well..." He hesitated. _"Perhaps he isn't doing it properly?"_

The last was a private thought he had let slip, but I answered him anyway. "Maybe you're right," I said dejectedly—as though improper spanking of my wife made me less of a man...or male vampire, rather, fixed in a never-ending adolescence. Whichever.

"Edward, I don't mean to insult you, you know. I'm sure you do a fine job of..." Carlisle chose not to finish that sentence, as it embarrassed him slightly. "You are not required to stay, if it would be too distressing."

"I'm not leaving her," I spat. I was ill tempered but resigned for the most part to what was going to happen. I had spent the past ten minutes arguing with him. I had offered to be punished again for her misbehavior, but he refused.

"We tried it once," he had replied, "and it didn't work out. I'm not doing that again."

That's exactly what rubbed me the wrong way about the whole debacle. Here we were again despite my sacrificial efforts. The only difference now was that I owned a throbbing physical ache—in two parts!—to accompany my emotional suffering.

Carlisle had continued to defend his position. "This time I've got no choice. You are in no condition to handle her yourself, and I don't intend to burden you with this problem. I never did mean to leave you to handle a newborn vampire on your own. That's why I'm here, Edward. We are family. And we need to react quickly before the situation escalates and grows even more out of hand. We must try it this way. What have we got to lose?"

He had asked Esme to go fetch the culprit; she had needed to consult with Alice first about Bella's whereabouts, and now we were waiting. I had to watch Carlisle plot and play out scenes in his head while he cleaned up bits of shredded leather from the threshold. With every piece of the strap that was discarded into the wastebasket, I felt more of my control being taken away from me.

I kept checking in with Jasper, who had been close enough to Bella when she committed the crime to register her emotions, which were namely desperation, anger, anxiety, and determination. Jasper himself was feeling very sorry for all of us, and he was wondering specifically how he could make it up to me. First chance I could, I told myself, I would relieve his regret. We had all been outwitted by Isabella Swan Cullen. It was not my first time—nor was it Jasper's. Even Alice had been one-upped by Bella on several occasions. Perhaps we could carry membership cards.

Alice told Esme she could find Bella in a tree northwest of our home, but Bella had already started back on her own when she met Esme in the woods. The two women walked upstairs together and entered the study. I sat up on the sofa, but Bella didn't look at me.

"I'm sorry," she addressed Carlisle rapidly. "I'm ready to accept whatever punishment you see fit. I'm not going to try to manipulate you anymore." She looked at Esme, who gave her a faint smile and subtle nod. My mother had apparently issued an unsparing lecture during their return journey, and Bella had delivered her appropriate lines as rehearsed. Esme was satisfied, but I only hoped Bella was being sincere.

"All right. Thank you." Carlisle spoke softly to Bella and used my telepathy to let me know what he was going to do. He held out his arm to direct her, as though he were politely opening a door for a lady. When she glided past, he took that extended hand and pressed it to the small of her back, escorting her the other side of his desk. "I think you understand why I'm displeased, Isabella, so let's get on with it."

_"Edward, I'm going to use my chair, so you can stay where you are."_

I had no choice. I needed to stay where I was, or else I would start directing things and risk making Carlisle very unhappy with me.

He hadn't yet picked up my belt, and I understood now that he wouldn't. This was Bella's first time with him, and he didn't want what he was doing to seem impersonal or brutish. She was unused to corporal punishment, so he would proceed gently. Not to say that she wouldn't suffer, but he was intentionally altering his style to fit Bella—or so he thought... He was raised by a harsh father, who would throw him across a table and beat him with a stick. What he had in mind for my mate was quite lenient comparatively.

I was relieved...but equally alarmed, because I didn't want Bella to get excited. And I didn't know enough about her fetish to know what she fancied. Also—clearly—she wanted to be whipped with that belt—as I had been—I knew that much. Why couldn't we give her what she wanted? Just this time?

Esme came to my side and brushed her fingers through my hair. "It will be over soon, darling," she told me. Then she discreetly left the room.

Carlisle had taken a seat in his desk chair and stood my Bella directly in front of him in between his knees, like he would a young child. He reached around her to open a low drawer and extract a gentleman's slipper. Then he held her hips firmly, slipper crushed in his hand against her left side, and spoke. "I'm very sorry to have to do this, but I won't hesitate anymore. You are my daughter, as Edward is my son, and I will correct you when necessary." She reluctantly met his eyes and nodded.

"Tell me why you're here," he commanded.

Her eyelids fluttered. _Please don't roll your eyes, Bella!_ I pleaded silently. _Do _not_ roll your eyes!_

"I stole your strap and then I deliberately destroyed it." Her voice was level—almost defiantly passive.

"Very well."

_"I'm going to lay her over my lap now,"_ he informed me.

I groaned...and it wasn't for purely painful reasons. My father was about to take my wife over his knee for a spanking, and it was turning me on! How obscene and backward! To make matters worse, I momentarily entertained the ghastly idea that inviting another man into my bedroom might be a stimulating prospect.

"SHHH-sh!" I censored my thoughts harshly—and loudly—and Carlisle and Bella looked up at me with almost identical expressions of confusion. I was legitimately thankful at that moment that _I_ was the mind reader. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I wasn't shushing you...somebody downstairs is entertaining a crude fantasy," I lied.

_"Hm. Emmett's not home, so who might it be? …Jasper,"_ Carlisle concluded, shaking his head.

_Dear God!_ What was wrong with me? My monster knew as well as I that I was too possessive and too much of a moralist to consider a threesome. The Denali coven held orgies—not the Cullen family. We were too sophisticated for such depravity.

Fortunately my anatomy was too wounded to evidence my arousal. If I wanted to watch something kinky, a camcorder by the bed or a porn film would fulfill that function just as well.

Carlisle shifted slightly and then helped Bella bend over his lap. Her toes stayed on the floor to his right and she held onto his other thigh. As absurd as it was, I felt proud that I had taught her how to position herself for an over-the-knee paddling.

My father's view of my wife's backside didn't help much either. She was wearing black yoga pants, which accented her curved shape. I was fidgety and bothered and envious.

After allowing a small pause while Bella got settled, Carlisle raised the slipper over his shoulder, his abdomen stretching with the effort. I cringed. This would be not be pretty.

The sole came down with sharp whap. Bella squeaked and I grunted. He raised the slipper again and struck. And again. And again. I felt helpless and lascivious. It was havoc in my brain and limbs, which had turned flimsy and weak.

Bella rubbed her face on his leg, making her pitiful noises. At one unbearable point, she straightened her arms and tried to come back on her heels. Carlisle realized she was trying to get up, and he quickly changed her position so her feet came off the floor, her head hung upside down, and she had to extend her arms to steady her upper body. She clung to my father's calf, disoriented for a second. Then he (after giving me a mental warning) peeled the lovely pants down to mid-thigh, and I imagined then Bella was glad to have her face hidden in the folds of his trousers. Then down came the panties. Her naked bottom revealed, and I wriggled my own poor battered hide in my seat. _This is not supposed to be erotic,_ I reminded myself sternly. Still, I was more than entertained and curious as to what Bella was thinking along those lines.

I sat on the sofa, my legs bent, feet up on the cushion, my arms straight, elbows on my knees, and my head hanging down between them. I didn't need to look directly; I could see more than plenty through Carlisle's vision.

He was spanking with purpose, concentrating on sound, velocity, and target. The slipper seemingly grew more and more flexible with use, snapping viciously and righteously covering the bare skin with stinging reminders to behave. Bella was crying heartily then, but he continued, wishing fervently that she learn her lesson and not give me any more trouble.

Despite all his trouble and effort, he was thinking about me...about Bella...about the family. He was wholly selfless.

_"She must learn to obey without hesitation. That is what keeps this family safe. She is a mother, for heaven's sake, and Edward's mate—Bella must adhere to rules and authority, even when she disagrees with those orders."_

Resting the implement at his side, he paused for a moment to make an assessment. Then he picked up the slipper again and gave her upper thighs a proper smacking, hitting first one then the other. Bella was thoroughly beside herself, squeezing his leg, kicking her feet, and rocking her hips.

Finally he ended the punishment and pulled up her clothes so she could be sat up. When he righted her, she surprised him by hanging onto his neck. Carlisle — now used to such daughterly affection since Alice had come along — returned the embrace, patted her back, and swaying her tenderly, murmuring his apologies and "there, there now's."

He stood with Bella cradled in his arms, carried her to the sofa, and passed her to me. He quietly left us there, locking the door behind him and telling me non-verbally that we could use his study as long as we needed it.

I tucked Bella into my chest and inhaled her scent, my nose buried in her hair. She was sniffling and absently grabbing at my shirt. I felt better holding her, but I still was regretful...and something else, too..._ah, yes_. Jealousy, my almost-constant companion since Bella came into my life. I was feeling jealous that Carlisle was not only included, but had taken the lead role. No, no. That wasn't right. Bella was the star, the lovely leading lady. She had written the script, and when the scene veered off course, Bella had redirected. And to top it all off, Bella's backside made a first-rate model.

Poor Bella! I was too happy that she didn't know how out-of-control and desirous I felt at that moment. I held her for close to an hour.

Too suddenly, however, she untangled herself from my grip and walked away. But I still needed her in my arms, and I actually growled at her desertion! She turned around abruptly with a sassy set to her mouth. But before she spoke, she seemed to change her mind, altering her face to innocent and apologetic, eyes cast down. And she began to undress, starting with her shirt. When she was down to bra and panties, I interrupted.

"Bella, I can't — I'm hurt, and...I don't think we ought to mess around in Carlisle's room..."

She didn't respond but finished stripping off her undergarments. Then she purposefully reached over the desk and fetched my folded belt, which had been at ease on top. She returned to me and knelt at my feet, holding the belt out for me to accept.

I had been sitting sculpture-still while I watched her disrobe and bring me the belt. I wanted to refuse...and I _didn't_ want to refuse. The latter urge was beating the other out. But I made myself decline. I just wanted our life to go back the way it had been before all this nonsense had begun. Didn't I? But how to get back from here, I wasn't certain.

"Bella, no. You've already been punished. Stop this."

She looked up at me, amber eyes displaying trust and rebellion and petition. She still didn't speak, but she lifted that stubborn shield of protection, making herself vulnerable and known.

_"You made me, Edward. Please. You know me."_

Yes, I knew that Bella knew how to move on from this awful place. And I trusted her to get us there. I knew that she needed what she was proposing, and I would give it to her.

As I accepted the belt, I felt a certain comfort return to me—like power. She was giving me the control I so desperately needed. Her behavior had taken her out from under my protection and control, and what she was offering would restore it.

I listened to the house, but it was silent. Alice, in her insistent way, had given us an empty space—privacy. What an indulgence!

As I stood up, I grabbed Bella's upper arm, lifting her from the floor as I rose. Then I led her to the side of the sofa and bent her over the arm. I skated my hand over her silky back and bottom, my breath catching at the sight of her skin that was like snow and cream. Her backside was still warm from Carlisle's slipper.

"Six," I announced, stepping away from her.

Bella whipped her head around to challenge me. "Ten. That's what you got."

"Isabella, I did not give you permission to talk." I snapped the belt gently on her hip. "You are forgetting who is in charge. You may apologize now."

She gasped. "Sorry, sir." Within her uncovered thought realm, she was disagreeing about who was actually in charge, since she had handed me the reins. But she hadn't meant for those opinions to be heard, so I chose to ignore it. Of course, she was in charge. We both knew that.

"You have already been punished, and it's your first time. Six will do. Shield will remain up."

I took the first swing, and the belt slapped the roundest, most ample part of her backside. Her legs stiffened and then relaxed. I wasn't whipping her as hard as I had been whipped, but she wouldn't know that. I aimed lower and cut in where thigh met buttock. Bella whimpered and danced a bit on her toes. When she settled again, I targeted the space in between the last two strokes.

Bella jumped up off the arm of the sofa. Arching her back, she held her backside with both hands.

"Smarts?" I asked gently.

"Yesssssir," she said in a forceful whisper.

"I know. Halfway there. Bend over." She rubbed once more and then complied.

I transferred the belt to my left hand to ensure maximum coverage on both sides. I wanted Mrs. Cullen to feel my bite tomorrow morning. Being a vampire, I could use both arms equally well, but my right was dominant more out of habit. I repeated the pattern, hitting the fullest part, then where leg met cheek, and finally the space in between.

After the sixth stroke she stayedface down over the arm of the sofa, lightly bouncing and snarling softly. I dropped the belt and came close, to feel her body against my legs. I rubbed where the leather had dealt fire, and then I knelt down to kiss the stinging away. I left delicate kisses along all the lines I had marked. She sighed when I came back up—a lovely sound. I felt her legs come open. Leaning back to look, I saw what had been hidden between her thighs previously. It was shining and ready. I let my hand feel its way down, and my first two fingers pocketed themselves in her glassy wetness. Learning from Bella's still-open mind what she needed, I used my thumb to rub up front. Slight pressure from my fingers was all it took, and she was torn, going to pieces all around me.

I lifted her up and our mouths crashed into each other, tongues trying to take more of the other and maintain the connection between us. We were breathing heavily then, and my monster chose that moment to stand to attention. Bella felt its poking and leaned back to present me with a naughty smile. Never breaking eye contact, she showed me what she had in mind to do. My mouth dropped open in shock.

In a voice that was all lust and unaffectedness, she proposed to me. "Show me where you hurt, sir, and I'll kiss it all better."

I snapped my mouth shut, wiped my hand over my face, and opted for cool.

"Yes, Mrs. Cullen," I hummed, kissing the back of her hand. "Whatever you wish. I am yours."

* * *

><p>For TwilightLuver-BabyDoll and ChocolateKiss.<p> 


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